The Dark Brotherhood Forever
by Heiwako
Summary: Epilogue to Darkness Rises When Silence Dies and For the Future of Skyrim. Various vignettes dealing with Hecate and Cicero's relationship over the years.
1. Cidhna Mine

**Loredas 8 Last Seed 237 4E 6:00 PM**

In the last twenty-five years, the Dark Brotherhood had done very well. Nazir became the head of the Wayrest Sanctuary in High Rock after Garnag passed away, Meena led the Corinthe Sanctuary in Elswyr, and Aventus Aretino controlled the reinstated Falkreath Sanctuary in Pine Forest here in Skyrim. All of them have been named Speaker.

We had managed to grow from four ragtag misfits to four fully functioning Sanctuaries. The Black Hand once again commanded the Brotherhood. Mother must be proud.

Babette and Cicero were still with me in Dawnstar Sanctuary. Babette and I were frozen in time; she was still a sweet, innocent looking ten-year-old girl and I had aged physically maybe two or three years, so I looked about twenty-five years old instead of my actual fifty-seven.

My poor Fool of Hearts had not been as fortunate. His hair was more silver than red now, but he still laughed, sang, and danced. And Kept. Cicero's dedication to the Night Mother was as strong as it was the day he was given the honor of being made Keeper.

With all of us scattered throughout Tamriel, we were much better equipped to answer the prayers of the Black Sacrament to give vengeance and closure to the wronged. We rarely got to see each other, so every five years or so the family had a reunion to celebrate our success in assassinating the emperor, Titus Mede II, back during the year of the Stormcloak Rebellion. It was the contract that put the name of the Dark Brotherhood back into the mouths of the people and that lead to me becoming the leader of the Black Hand.

"Home, home, the children have come home!" Cicero sang as Aventus entered Sanctuary with his entourage. His jester's outfit was little more than patches any more. I didn't know how it survived so long with as often as he wore it. I liked to think Sheogorath enchanted the motley to last forever.

Aventus had grown into a handsome man. He's tall, broad shouldered, and has brown hair that absolutely will not stop falling across his eyes, giving him a mischievous look. Babette looked at him with hungry eyes, full of regret for the choice the boy made twenty years ago to grow up instead of being a child forever.

"Big sister!" Aretino laughed as he ran to me. The boy picked me up and spun me around hugging me with enough strength to make me lose my breath. In the years, Aventus switched from a one-handed mace to the huge two-handed hammers the Nords favor. The heavier weapons must be why our boy was so muscular.

"Stop, can't breathe," I gasped. Aventus put me down and patted my head affectionately. He towered a good hand's breadth above me. I thought of the small, dirty, hungry boy I found alone in his family's home a lifetime ago and could not believe they are the same person.

Nazir and Meena were already here and they came running out to greet their little brother. I smiled like an idiot as I looked at our group. The Redguard, the cat, the boy, the vampire, the Fool and the Dragonborn; for me, this was the core of the family. There were many more brothers and sisters now, but they weren't there with us during those first hard days. Everyone we accepted into the Brotherhood was family, but there's the family you claim and those you know. That nuclear circle who knew all the inside jokes and secret mannerisms the rest of the world didn't understand was the one close to my heart.

The actual anniversary wasn't until Morndas, but we were all here early. There would be drinking, gossiping, and remembering old contracts as well as planning for the upcoming year. There were enough of us now that some would make an impromptu band and there would be music for Cicero and me to dance to instead of just the music in the jester's head. Aventus had a lovely singing voice cultivated from his education in the Bard's college; I was sure he would grace us with a song or two.

Astrid had been very paranoid towards the end, but her advice, "We aren't just assassins," was some of the best I had ever been told. I had missed the boy when we sent him away to train with the bards, but he had learned how to talk to people and make them like him and been around normal people so he could move more easily among them. Aretino was a natural assassin and adapted quickly.

"Are we playing Mage Poker?" Nazir asked. His beard was salt and peppered. I suspected that he'd lost most of his hair over the years, but it was hard to tell since he always wore his ali'kir turban. Something about the way he enviously looked at Cicero and Aventus, who both still had full heads of hair, was my only clue.

"Meena likes the poker," the Khajiit purred. Her muzzle was grayed and her movements were slower, but the catkin's eyes were still full of mischief. Of all my family, she was the one I got along the least with. Both of us being hot-headed and stubborn made for an explosive match up at times.

"You always get bored and quit early," Aventus complained playfully. "What you do think, big little sister?" He put a brotherly arm around Babette. The Breton smiled and wrapped her arms around Aventus' waist for a big hug.

"I am fine with anything," Babette said. I had offered to let her go with Aventus when he relocated to Falkreath, but she had refused. She stated that she had no interest in watching Aretino grow old and die, but I often wondered if it was because she still remembered Astrid and the others too much.

"Cicero always wins," I reminded them. The jester shrugged helplessly as the others playfully booed him.

"I remember the first time I played," Aventus laughed, "and Cicero got you to agree to a favor as a side bet. How did that turn out?"

"He never cashed it in," I growled. For years I had waited, growing more and more paranoid about when the jester was going to drop the hammer on me for the favor. But it never came and I eventually forgot about it. "Thanks for reminding him."

"Cicero never forgot," the Keeper smiled with a wink. "Just waiting for the right moment."

* * *

**Sundas 9 Last Seed 237 4E 2:00 AM**

"It was good to see the family together again," I said yawning. Aventus and Babette were still up getting reacquainted, but the rest of us had retired for the night. All of us still kept late and erratic hours, but the older ones couldn't go as long as they used to. Even Cicero slept more now than he used to for which I was grateful. He was more stable when he had rested.

"Yes, yes, good memories," Cicero said as he nuzzled my shoulder. The Keeper had changed very little over the years, he was still crazy as hell and affectionate craving the small physical touches the rest of us took for granted. Years of being alone in Cheydinhal without the touch of another had left Cicero always hungry for human contact. Restless hands traced over my contours that he had memorized years ago, but felt the need to revisit frequently.

"May I?" Cicero asked, his hand hovering over my breast. He always asked even though it really wasn't necessary. After years, decades at this point, of being on again off again lovers, we were still best friends. We slept as brother and sister most of the time, but I looked forward to when we were physically intimate. Sex with Cicero was just as much a comfort for me as it was for him.

"Always," I answered. I kissed him before he continued with his Keeping of his Listener.

* * *

**Morndas 10 Last Seed 237 4E 8:00 AM**

"Cicero wants a contract," the Keeper said. He was pouring over the various scrolls that were on the table that Siltal, Dawnstar's new Speaker since Nazir was promoted to Speaker of Wayrest, used for her paperwork. Although new is a relative term, Siltal has been part of the Brotherhood for twenty years and Speaker for fifteen. So many of our brothers and sisters felt like the new kid to me.

The High Elf huffed in frustration as the Keeper riffled through her carefully stacked papers. Everyone was long used to Cicero's eccentricities, but he could still be trying. Siltal hated when anyone touched her things whether it was her books or her person. Purple energy enveloped her hand as she held it up in a fist. "Listener, let me turn our dear Keeper into a thrall. Maybe then he'll learn to respect other people's things and position."

"Probably not," I smiled ruefully. "Cicero would probably still sing and dance even if he was a zombie. Cicero, I'm sure Siltal will pick a good contract for us and we'll head out tomorrow together."

"No, no, no, Cicero wants his own contract. One for just Cicero and not with Hecate," the Keeper scowled.

"You have never asked for a contract," I responded suspiciously. The only time Cicero ever went on contract was to accompany me as back up.

"And?" Cicero looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Is the Listener saying no?" Technically I had never revoked Cicero's active duty status after the burning of Falkreath, but we were in stable times again. The Keeper's blade should be retired so he could dedicate his time to the caring of the Night Mother.

I shook my head. Cicero crowed in delight and finally picked up one of the scrolls. He glanced at it and nodded in satisfaction. "This one, Cicero wants this one!" The Keeper picked up a travel bag he had dumped next to the table and started to the exit.

"You're leaving today?" I asked shocked. "What about the reunion?"

"The contract is in Markarth," Cicero said as if that explained everything. "Cicero needs time to get there and back for Mother."

"Why now? You could wait," I said. Something was wrong. When Cicero had come to bed the night before, he had held me tight and not talked once. "What are you hiding?" I was yelling. The thu'um wasn't activating; my shrillness was from fear not anger.

Cicero turned at my touch on his sleeve. He grabbed me around the waist and drew me in for a deep kiss. "Let Cicero go," he said softly in my ear. I nodded with my head against his chest, not trusting my voice.

I followed Cicero outside and watched him mount up on his horse. "Promise me that you'll come back," I begged. Cicero always kept his promises. "Be back soon, Mother needs you."

"Cicero will serve Mother as he has always done," the Keeper said with a half bow. His laughter was the last thing I heard as Cicero rode away.

* * *

**Morndas 17 Last Seed 237 4E 8:00 AM**

"Siltal, what contract did Cicero take?" I asked frantic with worry. He hadn't come back yesterday. I thought surely he would have been back no later than Sundas. Cicero always oiled the Night Mother on Sundas without fail. The only times the Keeper had ever failed to oil Mother were when he had gotten pneumonia, and when he had been banished from Falkreath for trying to kill Astrid.

"Um, I don't know. He didn't let me see it when he took it," the Altmer stammered. "I'll have to look through the contracts and figure which one is missing."

"Cicero mentioned Markarth," I said. "How many are for there?"

"Just the one," Siltal said brightening. "I remember it because it was a difficult one. I remember speaking to the petitioner. She was a mourning mother. The woman had lost four sons to the Forsworn War. The target is Madanach, the leader of the Forsworn Rebellion. She wanted revenge for having to bury all of her children. The youngest one was only fifteen."

Mother never named the petitioners. The only exception had been Armaund Motierre and as far as I could tell he was the only petitioner who had wanted a kill for political reasons instead of personal ones. Instead she used titles like "mourning mother" or the "vengeful lover."

"Madanach must be heavily guarded! His fanatics would never let a stranger near him," I dropped into a chair; my legs were suddenly boneless. What had Cicero been thinking choosing that particular contract? Or any contract at all for that matter?

"I had originally planned for several brothers to go in together and take out the whole den," Siltal admitted. She smiled, trying to brighten the situation. "You have to admit that out of all of us, Cicero has the best chance of sneaking past an entire hostile group and killing the target."

"Madanach could be anywhere in those mountains!" I said. I gripped the table so hard that my knuckles turned white. "If the Skyrim army could have flushed them out by now, they would have. They're impossible to find. Cicero could be dead from those barbaric idiots or bears or wolves or anything!"

"_Daughter, approach me,"_ the sweet, loving unearthly voice of the Night Mother filled my mind. Over the years, our mental connection had strengthened and I could sense her anywhere in the Sanctuary.

"Mother!" I cried trying to keep tears from leaking from my eyes. I ran down the stairs into the catacombs towards the dark iron coffin that housed our matron. The Night Mother rarely spoke to me outside of giving me contracts for the Speaker. There had been times I had desperately wished she would intercede with her fighting children, but she never did. Mother let her children fend for themselves so they could grow to be worthy of her and the Dread Lord.

"Do you know? Do you know where Cicero is?" I almost threw myself onto the cold, shadow shrouded coffin, but stopped short. The Keeper would be angry if I disrespected the Night Mother's resting place.

"_I do,"_ the Night Mother said calmly. I could feel her spiritual embrace soothing me. _"Sweet Cicero is in Markarth. You will find him in Cidhna Mine as well as the target. Kill the target and bring my Keeper home."_

Cidhna Mine? It was a combination silver mine and prison for the Reach. It was a brutal place. Prisoners for almost every crime were sent there to work off their time. The mine was heavily guarded for its precious silver ore. No one ever escaped from there.

No one.

* * *

**Middas 19 Last Seed 237 4E 2:00 PM**

I didn't like Markarth. It had been in civil unrest ever since before the Stormcloak Rebellion twenty-six years ago. Once again the sovereign rights of the natives were being ignored by the winning side. The Forsworn were the sons and daughters of Breton-blooded natives who had lived in the Reach for over a hundred years. They were ousted about forty years ago when the Nords took over the area. They had their own brand of religion which included revering Hagravens that they wished to practice, but were forbidden by the Nords—ironically led by Ulfric Stormcloak at the time.

Going into the mountainside city meant you had to risk the overly zealous guards. The slightest offense and you were thrown into jail. Forsworn dominated the roadways and would attack anyone regardless of their connections to the Nords or Bretons. They had grown so mad with their righteousness no one was safe.

I scanned the city thinking desperately of what to do next. Siltal was with me and I had also brought an orc, Dreggs Khash, to help me with our rescue. Dreggs had only been part of the Brotherhood for six years, but he was reliable like all of my siblings and had the skills we needed for this quest.

I had sent an initiate to Falkreath Sanctuary to let Aventus know what was happening. We were going to need backup once we escaped and I couldn't think of anyone else I trusted more. Nazir and Meena were already on their way back to their Sanctuaries and I had no idea how to get to them in time. The Khajiit would be pissed she missed out on this, but she would survive the disappointment. I just hoped the same could be said for our Keeper.

I had neither the time nor inclination to be subtle. I knew how to get into the mines and I was going to do the most efficient way possible. I walked up to a guard and punched him. Other guards came running within seconds. Siltal and Dreggs joined in the fray; they were coming into the mines too.

* * *

**Middas 19 Last Seed 237 4E 5:00 PM**

"Work your time and behave and we'll let you out in no time," the guard said sarcastically as we were locked into the mines. "The more silver you bring, the faster it will go."

All three of us were banged up. We hadn't put up too much resistance, but as mentioned the guards were really enthusiastic. Dreggs had a black eye and Siltal's wrist was swollen. It didn't comfort me when I overheard one of the guards complain the exact same thing of a guard being randomly attacked happened last week.

It sounded just like something Cicero would do.

I approached a nearby prisoner. "Excuse me, I'm looking for a middle-aged Imperial. Red and silver hair. Talks in third person a lot." The man tried to ignore me and move away, but I tightened my grip on his arm. "Trust me; it goes a lot easier if you just cooperate." My tone must have impressed the man because he pointed towards a side tunnel.

I ran towards the tunnel, the prisoner already forgotten. Shortly inside the curve, I found Cicero. He was little more than a lump on the ground curled into a protective fetal position. I rolled the Fool over, who was wearing the same ragged clothes as the rest of the prisoners, and gasped at the sight. The Keeper's face was a maze of black and purple bruises. I could tell by the way he was holding his side that several ribs were broken. Dried blood speckled untreated cuts.

"Fool!" I yelled. I wanted to shake Cicero, but resisted the urge. He deserved it, but I didn't want to hurt him further. He looked so fragile, like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Cicero knows, he botched his assignment," the Keeper laughed weakly. "Tried to get into prison to get to target and guards were tougher than he thought. It always worked before. Remember, Listener? Remember when we got thrown into jail in Riften?"

"Riften is safe compared to this place," I muttered. I picked up a nearby pickaxe and tested the weight. It was heavier than I preferred, but all our personal items had been confiscated when we were arrested. "It only has to worry about thieves." I turned to my other brother and sister. "Siltal, can you handle Cicero?"

"More or less," she flexed her wrist. "It will be a little annoying at first, but once you get rolling it will be like cake."

"Dreggs," I nodded to the orc who grinned that he was ready. "Leave no prisoners alive." I stood up and hefted the pickaxe. "For the Night Mother!" I screamed as I ran forward.

"For the Night Mother!" the Brotherhood yelled behind me.

Dreggs laid down cover fire with incineration spells over my shoulders. Prisoners screamed as they turned to dust.

"Idiot, use lightning or ice," Siltal scolded. "I can't rez them if they're dust."

"Sorry," Dreggs grinned as he hit another prisoner with an icy shower. The man fell to the ground frozen completely through. Siltal hit the corpse with a purple ray and raised him as a zombie. She commanded the creature to help her carry Cicero who had one arm thrown over the high elf's shoulder.

Siltal and Dreggs had been chosen for this trip because Siltal was a necromancer and Dreggs was an invoker. Weapons could be disarmed, but magic was always available to mages. Perfect for this place. My Shouts would supplement my fighting until I could grab a real weapon.

I slammed into two more prisoners who were yelling their own rallying cry, "For the Reach!" My pickaxe took the one on the right in the stomach. I Shouted, "**FUS RO DAH!" **throwing them backwards into other prisoners who were streaming out from another side tunnel.

I took another breath and immediately Shouted, **"IISS SLEN NUS,"** the ice form shout that turned all those caught into completely frozen statues. I'd done my best to master the thu'um over the years instead of being controlled by it. I could Shout without pause if I was well rested.

Siltal quickly raised the four prisoners I had dropped. Ice crackled as the zombies rose to defend their new masters. The numbers were starting to swing into our favor. I don't know how many prisoners there were here or how many were actually Forsworn. I really should have checked, but seeing Cicero's fallen form had pushed me away from rational to passionate. No one hurt my family.

No one.

I found two more pickaxes to dual wield while Dreggs filled a corridor with fire. I hefted them, hating the extra weight. It was going to slow me down terribly. Strike too slow and you're dead has always been my experience. **"SU GRAH DUN,"** I Shouted and watched as wind wrapped around my arms to give me more speed in my swing.

As I tore into a new set of prisoners armed with their own pickaxes, Siltal had her zombies create a protective circle around her and Cicero. The Keeper's face was slumped forward and his face was hidden by his dirty, blood-matted hair. He was quiet, so quiet. The Fool of Hearts had always laughed, screamed, and taunted during combat.

Dragon rage flowed through me when I saw Cicero that way. I Shouted fire and ice over and over. When it was over, only the Brotherhood was still standing. I was sure somewhere in that rubble of bodies was our target, but I had Dreggs help me check to be sure. I was not going to risk that our target had gotten away somehow in the madness.

"I think I found him," the orc said standing over the body of an old man. Judging by his wounds, Siltal's zombies had been the ones to actually kill him. He must not have realized his men had been turned and it had cost him his life. Dreggs held up a silver key. "Found this too!"

The key went to a gate that led deeper into the mountain and not the one we came through originally. Part of me wanted to ignore that route and break up through the guards' barracks instead. But Cicero was hurt and it would be safer for him to take the back route.

Before we left, I had Dreggs burn an imprint of the Black Hand on the wall. The world would know that the Brotherhood had infiltrated the Cidhna Mines and escaped, leaving no survivors.

* * *

**Loredas 22 Last Seed 237 4E 1:00 PM**

"What in the Void were you thinking?" I yelled at Cicero. Upon leaving the mines, we stumbled onto Aventus. The boy had retrieved our gear from the barracks and had left a trail of dead guards in his wake. I had gratefully taken back my daedric bow, Styx, and Cicero's worn motley. The carefully folded clothes were still tucked into my backpack.

We had made it home with no further incident and the jester was in bed. Babette was tending to his wounds while I hovered nearby ranting. "You had to have known it was too dangerous to go. You really thought it was the best idea to punch a guard and get thrown into the worst prison in all of Tamriel?"

"Hecate did," Cicero laughed. The laugh was cut short from Cicero's injuries. "Ow."

"Stay still," Babette said simply. Her expression was grim. She was expertly winding bandages around Cicero's ribs. I flinched at the distended yellow-purple mess of bruises on Cicero's chest.

"To get you! Why were you so secretive? Why did you suddenly need a contract after all these years of being happy coming with me when I went out? Did you want to die?"

"Could unchild give Cicero and the Listener some privacy?" Cicero asked Babette.

"I am done for now," Babette stood up and primly dusted her dress. "I will be back with some painkillers." She turned to me. "No matter how much he angers you, do not shake him. I do not want to risk further injury."

"Can I slap him a few times?" I growled.

"No," Babette said as she picked up her bag and left. She was not in a good mood either if she wasn't making snarky comments. Cicero must be in bad shape.

Cicero patted the bed for me to sit next to him. I hesitated, but did so. He wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head as I leaned my head against his shoulder. "What happened?" I asked suddenly tired.

Cicero was quiet for so long I was starting to wonder if he wasn't going to answer me. Over the years if I asked something the jester didn't want to answer, he would change the subject or just ignore the question. I wasn't going to let him get away with it this time. Not after what had happened.

"I dropped Mother," Cicero's voice was so low I almost didn't hear him. Hell, I almost didn't recognize his voice, it was so small.

"What?"

"The night before the reunion. Cicero was taking care of Mother as usual. I went to pick her up and she slipped. I dropped Mother!" Tears coursed down Cicero's face as he sobbed silently. "Cicero has never done that. Even when Cicero was learning how to be Keeper, Cicero has always been very, so very careful."

"You're getting old," I said gently. I placed my hand on his cheek and wiped the tears away. "It's okay."

"It is not okay!" Cicero's eyes snapped open full of fire. "Cicero must be the Keeper or he doesn't want to be alive. To be neither Keeper nor assassin would be worse than death. Cicero decided he would rather take one last contract for Mother. If Cicero succeeded, Mother would be pleased and forgive Cicero for his mistake. If not, then Mother could judge humble Cicero in the Void."

Cicero started coughing. It sounded bad, full of fluid. When he took his hand away, I could see bright red blood. "I'll get Babette. She needs to know. You rest in the meantime."

* * *

**19 Last Seed 237 4E 6:00 PM**

"Cicero is dying," Babette said simply. "The injuries he took at the mine were too severe and there is some infection. If he was a younger man, I would think he would pull through. But in his older state, it is too hard on his system."

The two of us were sitting in Babette's room. I remembered a time when we would have had this conversation in the main room, but the Sanctuary was too crowded with new children and there would be no privacy.

Earlier while Babette was tending to Cicero, I had given Dreggs and Siltal the bonus and pay for the contract we had completed. Siltal had tried to give the money back and said it was unnecessary, but I insisted that she had earned it. The lack of desire for coin was one of her qualities that I liked best about the elf.

"There has to be something we can do," I said slammed my fists into Babette's bed. "I could appeal to a daedric lord or something. Sheogorath has an interest in Cicero, he must! I could try him or maybe Sanguine."

"Listener," Babette placed her small hand over my fists. "You're going to have to let Cicero go. His soul belongs to Sithis; no other daedra would dare oppose the Dread Father."

"What about restoration magic? We could find a priest of Kynareth. They can heal about anyone of anything."

Babette shook her head. "There's not enough time. The nearest temple is too far away."

"Vampirism," I suggested looking at Babette. The thought of the Keeper as a vampire wasn't appealing, but it was better than the alternative.

"I will not turn the Keeper," Babette said. "He will not want the dark gift and I will not force it upon him. I suggest you make your goodbyes."

"No!" I snapped jumping to my feet. "I won't accept that. I can't."

"Then give him a reason to want to stay," Babette said calmly. Her gaze bore into me. She couldn't possibly be implying what I thought she was implying. I fled from the room and back to Cicero.

I threw myself into the bed, careful to not jostle the Keeper. I was sobbing uncontrollably against Cicero's chest. "I'm going to make you better. I'll find a way to make you young and we'll be together like we always promised."

Cicero wrapped an arm around me. "No," he said. I looked at him. Cicero so very rarely refused me; it was always a shock for him to do so. Cicero spoke slowly, each word a struggle. "Cicero is ready for his favor now, Diana. Cicero wants for the Listener to erect a new crypt for Mother like she suggested once a long time ago. Inter loyal Cicero with Mother."

"No more need for Keepers?" I asked. Cicero had been furious at the suggestion at the time.

"No more Keepers," Cicero smiled.

"Okay," I choked on the word. "But only because I was stupid once a long time ago and owe you, Fool. Cicero, I…" I was finally going to say those Binding Words. The ones normal people say. I had waited so long. I should have said them a long time ago, but I thought I had all the time in the world. Maybe if I said them now, they would be a good enough reason for Cicero to stay here with me.

"Shush," Cicero put up one hand, his head cocked to the side. He sounded tired and weak. "Mother is that your voice I hear?" Eyes closed, the Keeper smiled. "Coming…Mother."

Finally, after waiting so long, the Keeper had gone home to his mother.

* * *

**? ? 237 4E**

I lost track of time. It all blurred together now. Hours, days, weeks in the Sanctuary were all the same. I still Listened to Mother and gave her commands to her children. Lives taken and souls sent to Sithis.

It didn't matter to me.

Cicero had always complained about how he hated the silence. I had never appreciated how terrible nothing could be until now. Even those three quiet months with the Greybeards didn't compare to the lonely silence I had to deal with now. I was used to constantly planning and plotting that when Cicero died and all I had was the quiet it was enough to drive one insane.

The jester would laugh so hard at me right now.

I was curled up next to Mother's coffin. My arms were hugging my knees to my chest. Siltal was working hard on figuring out the components needed to make a proper crypt with all the protective spells that would guard the Matron's physical and spiritual self. Mostly the High elf was waiting for me to choose the location.

Dawnstar had always been Cicero's sanctuary first and foremost. He had discovered the passphrase and made it his home when he had hesitated joining Astrid's group. Cheydinhal had no personal ghosts there, but it had been Cicero's home before where he had lost his family for the second time. I didn't know if it was safe to go back to Bravil where the Night Mother's crypt had originally resided. Not that I really wanted to go back to my home city for personal reasons.

In the end, I would probably decide to stay here. Skyrim was my home now, not Cyrodiil. It didn't matter. Wherever Mother went, Cicero would be there with her and all the pain that brought. I couldn't flee and start over like I used to when I was young.

"_Daughter,"_ the Night Mother said. _"What can I do for you?"_

"Make the pain go away," I said.

"_Do you wish to die?"_ Mother offered_. "Death takes everything away. No more chances, no more mistakes, no more regrets."_

"No, ma'am," I sighed. "I want to live. I probably have hundreds of years due to me thanks to the dragon souls I have devoured. It would be waste to throw them away."

The Night Mother laughed in my head. She had ever done that before. _"You are a good child. Always obedient. Always patient. Always caring. You could have been seen as their mother, their matron, but you always made sure they put me first. You were the big sister to take care of the little ones."_

"I live to serve," I said dully. "No disrespect if I am not more excited at your praise."

"_None taken_," the Night Mother was pleased. "_I should give you a reward_."

"None is needed," I responded.

"_Yet you shall have one,"_ Mother promised_. "Did you know some of my children, the very best who served loyally in life, also serve in death? Only the most precious are given this honor. The last one was a Speaker named Lucien LaChance over two hundred years ago. I will grant a spectral assassin bound to your soul to work by your side. You will never need to worry about your right hand growing old and dying before you are ready to join us in the Void."_

"Thank you, Mother. You're too kind." Frankly I didn't care about this Lucien fellow. No doubt he had been an amazing brother, but I didn't know him or want to.

"_No, I am terrible, but you have earned it. Whenever you are done with his services, dismiss him and he will return to my side until you need him again."_

Mist began to form before me. Blue spectral light slowly brightened as it formed into a shape. The shape of a man. I wasn't interested until I noticed the funny boots with the swirls on the side. I looked up and saw Cicero, young again in death, leaning forward so his face was inches from mine. A huge grin was on his face. Gloved hands were planted on his hips and a foot tapped impatiently.

"Let's kill someone," my spectral assassin said laughing.

My heart caught in my throat. I could still say the words to my Keeper. The binding words that normal people say. But not today; it would be too weird today in front of Mother. Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow. We had all the time in the world.

* * *

**A/N: I don't know if I'll ever write the adventures of Hecate and Spectral Cicero, but it's not impossible. I almost ended with Cicero's death, but decided that was too much of a kick to the gut to end there. Since I never used Lucien, it was a perfect way to use the spectral assassin with a little reflavoring. Even when I reread this story, I get torn up. I hope you all forgive me, but one of Hecate's biggest problems was that she would outlive Cicero and the repercussions. **

**Cicero dying and Hecate's regret of not doing more was one of the earliest concepts for my story. Originally it was going to be she had been more intimate or even had slept with him at all, but that subplot quickly died in For the Future of Skyrim. Instead it came down to she always rationalized that she could say "I love you" later. That there is always tomorrow.  
**

**Until it there isn't.  
**


	2. Maybe

**A/N: Against my better judgment, Cicero and Hecate insisted there was more story to tell. I tried to protest, but we all know how good Cicero is at manipulating things to how he wants. This chapter takes place 20 years before chapter 1 and two years after the end of For the Future of Skyrim. Enjoy!  
**

**Middas 10 Second Seed 207 1:00 PM**

"It's good to be in Solitude again," I said as I exited the wagon Cicero and I had hired to bring us here. I carefully avoided making any eye contact with the driver who I was pretty certain was shooting daggers with his eyes. The Keeper and I had been unable to keep our hands off each other the whole trip and had made it rather uncomfortable for our unfortunate chauffer. I wasn't certain if the generous tip I had given him made up for the bother.

A late spring breeze picked up and I breathed deeply the sea air. The bright azure sky, the cry of the seagulls, the crash of the waves and the sight of the Blue Palace on the outcropping ledge always gave me a sense of euphoria. I spun in a circle with my arms extended giggling like a little girl with delight.

I could hear Cicero laughing behind me. I grinned and grabbed his hand before heading up the hill to the city proper. The wagons only brought travelers to the stables located outside of town and Solitudes and it closer to the docks than the city.

"You're in a good mood," Cicero commented, "a rarity to be sure."

"Hm," I nodded. We were a handsome couple in our matching blue and silver outfits – Windhelm colors. It wouldn't be positively received here in the Imperial capital, but it was the color of Aventus' hometown and I thought he would appreciate the gesture. "Our boy is all grown up."

The Bard's college would be holding this year's graduation ceremony for the exiting class this Loredas and Aventus would be graduating with full honors. Not only would he be awarded an official title as bard, but Aventus was now sixteen. He could go back to Windhelm and finally claim his family home for his own. I hoped he would return to Dawnstar with us, but it was good for the boy to have his own Sanctuary.

We stopped by Proudspire Manor to drop off our luggage before going to the Bard's college to let Aventus know we had arrived in town.

"By Julianos, you came!" Aventus exclaimed smiling. We had found him in his small dorm room hunkered over a desk working on something or other. The boy bound to his feet and engulfed Cicero and me in a spine crushing bear hug.

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world!" I said. I managed to wiggle free from Aventus' grasp. "Let me look at it you." College life had been good for Aventus. He was tanned, broad shouldered, and as healthy as a horse. His brown hair fell wildly about his face and he had started the beginning of a beard. He was about six foot three now and towered over Cicero and me.

I had visited a few times over the last two years, but it always felt like I was seeing Aventus for the first time. He changed a little more every visit and I felt like I was losing the boy I had saved from starvation and loneliness. To be fair, maybe it was a good thing, but I wasn't very good with letting go when I wasn't ready to do so.

"Aventus could easily pass as a Nord," Cicero teased, "maybe he has been practicing his arts of disguise more than his arts of song and dance."

"I promise I've neglected neither," Aventus said. His deep baritone was pleasant as was his laughter. He patted Cicero on the back almost knocking him over. "Let me give you a tour of the school."

Aventus lead us through a whirlwind tour of showing us the other dorm rooms, where he took classes, the courtyard, the kitchens, the study areas, the libraries, the alchemy room, and all his classmates and teachers. He proudly told everyone that I was his older sister and Cicero was his favorite uncle. It only made sense to claim us that way, I still looked like I was in my early twenties while Cicero looked somewhere between mid-forties and early fifties with his deep laugh lines and silver streaked red hair. Still it meant I couldn't hold hands with the Fool as we walked and I was a little irritated by that.

When it was time to go, I gave Aventus a hug. "I noticed you didn't introduce us to a girlfriend. Surely a handsome man like you has a lady friend? Maybe several?" I winked mischievously.

"Oh," Aventus blushed. He rubbed the back of his head. "There's someone I like, but she's never noticed me."

"Well, she's a fool then," I said sniffing. "Did we meet her today?"

"No, she's not a student," Aventus said looking down. He shuffled his feet nervously. "She's someone I've looked up to for a long time and she's with someone else."

"Oh, a teacher then?" I teased. "Our boy likes older women, Cicero." I glanced to the jester, but his face was serious for a change. "Well, I'm sure if you persevere, she'll notice you some day."

"Maybe," Aventus said with a small smile. He gave me a hug. "Thanks for coming to visit. I'll see you on Loredas?" I nodded. "I love you, sis."

"I love you too, brother," I said giving him a quick peck on the lips. I broke from his grasp and danced to Cicero's side so I could take the Keeper's hand. "Sing well and often," I laughed as I waved goodbye.

* * *

**Middas 10 Second Seed 207 6:00 PM**

"That was a lot of fun!" I said as I swung my hand with Cicero's while we walked towards the Winking Skeever for dinner.

"I suppose," Cicero murmured. He had a faraway look on his face.

"Is something bothering you?" I asked concerned. My Fool was rarely serious or quiet.

Cicero only shrugged in response. I leaned against him and gave him a light kiss. Cicero didn't respond, but when I looked at his eyes while I kissed him, I noticed they had darkened to the point of being almost yellow.

"Maybe getting something to eat will cheer you up," I said uncertainly. "I know I get to be quite unreasonable when I'm hungry." I thought that would earn a scathing comment from Cicero among the lines I was always unreasonable and I would hit him on the shoulder, but Cicero remained oddly silent.

The bell above the door tingled as we entered the Winking Skeever. Corpulus Vinius, the owner, looked up from his usual spot behind the counter to greet his newest customers. When he saw it was us, his grin turned to a frown and he practically flew from behind the counter.

"Table for two please," I said before the Imperial was pushing us back outside. "What in the Oblivion?"

"Don't think I've forgotten about you two," Corpulus growled. "You're still banned from the Skeever."

"What?" I gasped.

"You…are…still…banned," Corpulus said slowly and loudly as if I was an idiot. "For your little display of affection on Heart's Day four years ago. I made sure to put up posters of you two so all the employees would know. You're not welcome here."

"Oh, come on!" I huffed. "We're not here for a room. We just wanted dinner." I turned to Cicero expecting some sort of support. The Fool of Hearts always had something sharp to say, but to my surprise Cicero was still deep in thought and did not seem to be paying attention to the conversation at all.

"I don't trust the pair of you," Corpulus said with his hands on his hips. "How can I know you won't just push your plates to the floor and start going at it right on one of my tables? I had a hard enough time dealing with unhappy patrons before and you were in a private room. Not that you could tell from all the damn noise. Now get out of here before I call the guards!"

"Elisif will hear of this!" I threatened as I left pulling Cicero with me.

"I hope she does!" Corpulus retorted before retreating into his tavern. "Divines know how she didn't last time with you almost shouting the roof off."

"You were no help at all," I said to Cicero. I was used to Cicero jumping in with some witty words to disarm verbally aggressive people. I was in shock he had said nothing the whole time.

"Diana," he said softly as he pulled me into an embrace. My arms were pinned to my sides as Cicero traced one finger along my jaw so I was looking at him. "Tell me that you love me."

"We were just barred from getting dinner with you doing nothing to help and you want me to tell you that?" I said shrilly. I felt myself locking up from even repeating the phrase back. "What is wrong with you?" I could feel the thu'um building up. I stamped my foot against the earth a few times to try to calm myself down enough to not shake the world with my words.

"Just say 'I love you' to me like you did with Aventus," Cicero murmured. The only time Cicero ever asked me to say those words was when he was in a fit of madness and needed the comfort that I couldn't provide. This time he was completely calm and collected, not like how I had ever seen him before.

"Let me go, Cicero," I growled struggling against his iron grasp

"Just say the words," Cicero begged, "for poor, dear Cicero."

"No!"

"Why not? You say them so easily for Aventus." Cicero's voice was deep and dark, not a good sign.

"Aventus is a child," I said. I glanced around and saw a crowd was forming. I was sure Corpulus was calling the guard right now.

"No, not any more. He is a man grown with eyes of lust and still you say the words to him," Cicero retorted. "Say them to Cicero."

"I can't!"

"Why not? Am I not your brother also?" Cicero's touch was too hot and I was too confined. I felt myself panicking. "Why do you say them to Aventus only?"

"Because I'm not in love with him, you idiot!" I screamed. I gasped in shock at the words leaving my mouth.

Cicero finally released me and allowed me to take a step back. He smiled his secret smile and placed one hand under his chin. "Is that so?" he asked.

I was shaking uncontrollably. The Fool had forced me to say those words by agitating me in front of this crowd in the middle of Solitude. "You, you, you, you!" I closed the gap between us and swung as hard as I could. I slapped Cicero so hard he actually flew off his feet and fell to the ground with a grunt. "I hate you!"

I turned to stalk away. I needed time to cool down and I couldn't do it with Cicero nearby. "Is Hecate running away again?" Cicero asked bitterly. He had gotten to his hands and knees, but his look was one of defiance and not submission. Blood dribbled down his lips from where I had hit him. I could see the fear in his eyes betraying his worry that I would take off again like I had done with High Hrothgar.

"No," I muttered, "I just want to take a ride. I'll be back by sunset." I fled to the outskirts of town so I could summon Shadowmere and ride away.

* * *

**Middas 10 Second Seed 207 8:00 PM**

I was hot, dusty, and tired by the time I came back to Proudspire Manor. I had spent most of the last two hours riding up and down the coastline trying to not think. I had taken a small break to sit with my knees curled up and watch the waves crashing back and forth relentlessly. A wave would come in and I would think "I hate him." Then it would go back out and I would think "I love him." A mindless litany that could go on forever just like the tide.

I thought about why I couldn't say the Words to Cicero. It was ironic I could shout **FUS RO DAH** so easily, but "I love you" felt impossible to say. Three little words for both phrases; so similar and so different at the same time.

I had been raised that to tell someone that you loved them meant you would feel that way forever. I had never wanted or needed that commitment. I was as fickle as the moons always running across the sky and never with the same face day to day. Even after I silently admitted my feelings about Cicero to myself, I still couldn't bring myself to say them to my Fool of Hearts.

I didn't want to say them in the throes of passion or after he had done some generous task because it would feel like I had just let my hormones say the words. I didn't want to say them when I was angry or sad because it felt like a lie or manipulative. I couldn't just randomly say them while we were eating or riding because it would feel too sudden and strange. I didn't want to say them after Cicero demanded that I do so for that would feel fake, hollow, and forced. Leaving me with the conundrum of when could I possibly say them?

Cicero, wearing his motley, was waiting for me when I returned. He had been sitting in one of the chairs in the lobby of the house. As soon as I walked through the door, the Fool sprung to his feet like a jack in the box. His jester's cap flounced violently from the motion.

"Cicero made you dinner," he said as he wrung his hands. The jester bounced back and forth in a circle around me as I took off my boots. His voice was high pitched with worry. "Also, there is water for a bath. All hot and steamy like Hecate likes."

I nodded my thanks and pressed myself against him. My hands threaded into Cicero's motley and pulled him close to me while I silently rested my head on his chest. We had danced this dance before many times. I would become too locked up to speak and Cicero would fall back into the safety and comfort as his role of jester and Keeper.

Cicero's hands fluttered over me not sure if I wanted to be held. Finally, he risked it and placed them gently around my shoulders. When I didn't flinch, he slid down until he encircled my waist. I nuzzled his chest when he rested his chin on my head. I could feel his smile as he kissed my hair. "Welcome home. Do you want dinner first?"

I nodded against his chest. Cicero gently took my hand and led me to the dinner table. He served me a bowl of hot stew. The jester wasn't as good of a cook as Nazir, but he was more than adequate with making food good and filling. I didn't sit at the small table, but instead went to a reclining divan. I flopped on it and patted the area next to me indication Cicero should sit next to me. Once he was settled, I curled against him as I ate.

I took a few bites, but the food was tasteless to me. My throat still felt like it had a lump the size of the Throat of the World in it and swallowing was difficult. I quietly placed the bowl on a side table and leaned against my jester. Cicero sensed my mood and tightened his embraced.

"Cicero will take care of you, always and forever," he crooned in my ear.

"No," I whispered finally finding words again, "you won't."

"Oh, but Cicero will! He will! Loyal, faithful Cicero never breaks a promise," the Keeper swore fervently. "As long as Cicero draws breath, then no harm will befall dear, sweet Hecate."

I rolled over so I was facing Cicero. His eyes were golden with intensity as he stared into mine trying to figure out what he could say or do to make everything okay again. I stroked his fine red hair mentally flinching at the silver stands that speckled it now. "How long do you think you'll live? Without accident or mishap? Assuming I don't take you on contract and our target gets a lucky strike or you don't mouth off to the wrong Nord some day?"

"Every dawn Cicero sees is a day he didn't have before," Cicero shrugged. "The peace of the night sky reflecting the Void brings an end so Cicero can wait until another sunrise."

"Be serious," I scolded.

"Cicero cannot be serious for he is Laughter Incarnate and the Fool of Hearts," he said gently. "There can be only today for tomorrow is an illusion given to us by the Dread Father to make us think there is more than what we have. Cicero has everything he could ever want right now – family, Sanctuary, a Listener, and the Night Mother. To desire more would be to incur the wrath of Sithis."

"Then why do you insist that I say," I hesitated, "the Words?"

"Because Cicero is a fool and especially Hecate's fool and it is the job of every fool to speak of what no one else will say. Especially when his mistress insists on being blind to the truth," Cicero grinned evilly. He tilted his head and continued, "Or when she doesn't want to talk about why she's still as pretty as the day Cicero met her and not getting old like the rest of us."

"So, you've noticed?" I asked sarcastically, glad Cicero had mentioned it first.

"Hard to miss," Cicero teased. "If perceptive Cicero had managed to miss that Hecate has neither gray in her hair nor lines on her face after five years, then jealous Cicero saw how Aventus stared so longingly to a woman twice his age who looks only a few years older."

"Aventus doesn't…" I started but Cicero shushed me.

"Cicero is not wrong! Hecate is just blind as she always has been to how others see her," Cicero said. His eyes became distant with memory. "Cicero can remember the first time he saw the lovely Diana. Poor, abandoned Cicero was crouching over the damnable wagon wheel that Loreius would not fix. A shadow fell over dear Cicero and when I looked up I saw a girl I thought must be half my age, a maid on the edge of womanhood. So lovely and innocent! Not only did she help Cicero gladly, but she took no coin and even offered a bed in her home despite her not-special-friend Lydia's protests.

"Darkness came with promise of a repaired wagon the next day and the kindly stranger gave poor, sweet Cicero shelter, food, and company recalling happier days in Cyrodiil. Even after the kindly stranger and her housecarl retired to sleep together, still she came back walking quietly down the stairs with her big blue eyes full of sleep. Cicero knew he had to taste her even if it was just a stolen kiss and she pushed Cicero away. Imagine Cicero's joy and surprise when he kissed the girl and she didn't shun him, but returned his kiss just as eagerly!"

"Then Mother needed sweet Cicero and Mother must always be tended to first," Cicero chuckled. "It was probably for the best. Loreius and his wife's blood still pounded in Cicero's ear after years of not wielding his blade. If we have not been interrupted, there was a good chance I may have killed you afterwards." I felt a shiver run down my spine at his casual tone.

"I could have taken you," I said faking confidence.

"Could you?" Cicero laughed as I gasped when the tip of his ebony dagger dimpled my neck. In the middle of reminiscing, he had managed to draw the blade without me noticing. With a twirl, Cicero sheathed his blade. "Hecate is so oblivious."

Cicero slid off the divan and picked me up. He stood and started to walk to the stairwell. "Where are we going?" I asked. I had my arms around Cicero's neck and could feel the flaps of his cap hit my face gently.

"If Hecate will not eat, then she should take her bath before the water gets cold," Cicero said as if it was as plain as day. "She smells of sweat and dust. Not that Cicero minds the first." He grinned lustfully making me giggle.

"Hm, another memory," Cicero said, "Hecate giving Cicero a bath after he fixed the ceiling of our room. Hecate had asked 'why' at the time and Cicero had evaded the question. Cicero had looked so very long for the Listener. Even in his joker's retreat of Dawnstar, Cicero knew there was no Listener in him and he must venture out to Falkreath to Astrid's Sanctuary as a final resort. Hecate fell out of Mother's coffin and Cicero almost killed her for her disrespect."

Oh, how Mother would have punished foolish Cicero if he had succeeded! But Hecate said the Binding Words and became Cicero's salvation. Sweet, sweet salvation against the loneliness and the terror of not having Mother's guidance. Cicero feared that Astrid would take measures to rid herself of the new rival and Cicero had to protect the Listener for Mother! Cicero arranged so the Listener was away from the others so Astrid could not easily kill her and Cicero could watch over her as he did with Mother. Cicero couldn't just say that, could he? Cicero played the Fool again and the Pretender gladly gave Cicero exactly what he wanted!" The jester laughed at the memory as he placed me on the floor of the master bedroom. In the middle of the room was a large empty tub. A fire was burning in the fireplace with several large pots full of water waiting to be poured into the tub.

As Cicero talked, he expertly undressed me with deft fingers. I wondered at all the words that were spilling out of my Fool of Hearts for he had never so bluntly told me what was on his mind. Our first year at Falkreath, Cicero had held his motivations as close as a nervous poker player did with his card hand. This would be a one-time confession and I absorbed the words like the dry earth drank the rain after a drought. Once I was naked, Cicero gestured to the large pots next to the fire place. The huge container lifted from his telekinesis spell and with delicate care, Cicero managed to pour the whole thing into the tub without spilling a drop. An impressive feat since the telekinesis spell is normally a spell for obtuse maneuvers and not fine manipulation. Years of using it to move the Night Mother's coffin had given Cicero a finesse no other alteration spellcaster could master.

Once the tub was full, Cicero removed his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. He picked me up and gently placed me in the bath. The tub was deep enough that the water level covered my chest. He poured bathing oils over me and swirled the water so it frothed with bubbles. "Hecate insisted that Cicero bathe since he was covered in dust from the crawl space. While Cicero cleaned, Hecate washed his clothes and scolded." He picked up a bucket and dumped the hot water over me as I had done to him. I squawked as much as he had.

Industrious hands grabbed a terry cloth and started to clean the dust and sweat off efficiently as a parent does for a child. "Cicero realized that Hecate was starting to think of Cicero as simple because of the good natured face he had to put on for the others to convince them to follow the Old Ways. That wouldn't do at all! Hecate must see Cicero as her confidant, as her right hand man. If Cicero made the offer seriously, the Listener wouldn't believe him, so Cicero played the Fool and teased Hecate by flashing her. When Hecate slapped the tub, Cicero made sure to fall on Hecate. Imagine Cicero's surprise when Hecate not only denied Cicero's services, but her reason for it!

"Clever Cicero would have to revise his plan. A friend and not a lover he would be! So Cicero went to our room and painted and plaited and oh so sloppily spilled blue on the sheepdog's favorite shirt. After he pleasured himself as promised, thinking of his mouth on Hecate's pretty, pink, pert nipple." Cicero chuckled as he tweaked said body part with one hand. I squeaked from the suddenly erotic motion and blushed all over. "How pleased Hecate was when she saw the room transformed from dreary and dank to comfy and colorful! Her reward to loyal, dedicated Cicero was to allow him to kiss her even if it was only oh so gently. Cicero was pleased for his lips would touch the lips of the one who spoke the Night Mother's sweet words." Cicero fluttered a butterfly kiss on my lips.

Firm pressure on my back indicated I should stand. Cicero grabbed a towel that had been warming by the fire and used it to dry my hair and face before lifting me out of the tub. He then toweled the rest of me dry. I yawned hard enough to make my jaw crack. I was warm, dry, and clean; making me very sleepy.

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked.

Cicero paused with his hand under his chin. "I don't know," he laughed. When he saw my irritated look, Cicero said, "Maybe because when Cicero was all Mother had, he would talk and talk and talk to push away the silence. The terrible, maddening silence was all there was in Cheydinhal and it followed Cicero to Dawnstar even with his friend the jester back from the Void to give lonely Cicero company.

"All of those memories are happy memories for Cicero and those have been far and few in-between! The Listener, no, Hecate being in Cicero's life took away the loneliness and the silence. For too long, it was only Keeper and Mother. What good is a Keeper keeping if there is no Listener listening? More importantly Hecate is a jester just as much as Cicero. Another joker in the deck running wild amongst the others bringing the truth when others won't listen.

The Keeper pulled back the furs on the bed and nudged me so I sat on the bed. I lied down and pulled the covers over me while Cicero disrobed his motley top, cap, and boots so he was wearing only his pants. He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me.

"Cicero would rather take Hecate when she is angry and all spit and fire instead of when Hecate is upset and cold and stiff. Mother cannot talk to sweet Cicero, but Hecate can! It is maddening for Cicero when Hecate won't talk to him. If Cicero cannot say the truth to Hecate because she doesn't wish to hear it, then he makes a poor fool indeed."

"Because I'm the Dragonborn, when I absorb dragon souls I also steal their life energy. I am probably going to live two or three hundred years," I said in a rush.

"Oh," Cicero said wordless for a change. His amber eyes were wide in surprise. "OH!"

There was an awkward silence while Cicero contemplated what I told him. When he spoke again, I thought it would be to say something about it. Instead, I got, "Cicero should have brushed Hecate's hair before getting into bed. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Foolish Cicero."

"That's your reaction!" I scowled. "I just told you I'm going to live two or three times longer than most humans and you're worrying about my hair?"

"Hecate _might_ live as long as an Altmer mage, Cicero _might _die tomorrow," the Keeper said waggling his finger, "but Hecate's hair is definitely going to be full of snarls and tangles tomorrow which will make the Listener whine and moan while patient Cicero must gently brush all of it out."

Cicero made me sit up and turn my back so he could go ahead and brush my hair. "Maybe Hecate is right and someday Cicero will be old and feeble like the wizard Festus Krex was. Cicero will die and finally go to the Void and be with Mother. He will ask the Dread Lord if he can sing and dance and maybe make Mother laugh. When that happens, Cicero wants Hecate to not cry because it's over, but smile because it happened. Listener and Keeper together on the hunt as we were meant to be." When Cicero finished brushing my hair, he quickly braided it so it hung down my back like how I used to wear it when I was an adventurer.

"The real question is whether Hecate wants to sleep as brother and sister tonight," Cicero said pushing me back onto the bed, "or if she wishes for her Keeper to finish his duties." He grinned like a slaughterfish tasting blood in the water as he grabbed my arms and pinned them above me.

After hours of Cicero's tender administrations, I was more than willing for the second option. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him close enough for me to kiss him. "What about the Binding Words issue? We didn't resolve that at all?"

"If Hecate cannot say the words that Cicero longs to hear, then she should give him a token of proof." I could feel his fingers twisting the silver and amethyst ring he had given me two years ago. "Poor Cicero is still ring-less."

"I never promised that I would give you one," I scowled. "I only said maybe." I twisted so I could hook my toes under Cicero's pants line and pull the offending piece of clothes off.

"Still ring-less," Cicero insisted as his mouth trailed down my neck. "Besides, a 'maybe' from Hecate is like a 'yes' from anyone else." He stopped his kissing to look at me mischievously. "Do you love me?"

"Maybe."

* * *

**A/N: "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."  
― Dr. Seuss**


	3. Road trip to Markarth

**Morndas 12 First Seed 208 4E 9:00 AM**

"Where in the Void is the Keeper?" I yelled.

Assassins were scurrying around me trying to get ready for our trip. I was standing on top of the wagon, right behind the driver's seat where Nazir was comfortably sitting with the reins in hand. Siltal, an Altmer who joined us last year was sitting primly next to the Redguard. Her narrow golden eyes were wide in wonder as she watched the circus that was our Family getting ready to go to Markarth for the next week.

Garnag, the elder orc from Cyrodiil, was getting too old and weak to continue leading the Wayrest Sanctuary in High Rock. Nazir was going to transfer to Wayrest and learn Garnag's system and people before officially taking over as Speaker there. Siltal would inherit the role of Speaker here in Dawnstar.

"Listener, are you sure I should be named Speaker?" she asked once again. "There are other brothers and sister who have more seniority."

"I'm sure, Sister," I said calmly. There were others who had been part of the family longer like Meena, but I wanted Siltal. Not only was she good with organization, but the High Elf knew how to talk to people, a valuable asset for a Speaker. Most important of all Siltal was an Altmer and that meant her natural life span would be close to two hundred years. I wouldn't have to worry about needing to replace my local Speaker too often. A little selfish, but I was at the point of wanting to surround myself with the longer-lived races now.

"Move it, people! I don't want to wait until the end of the Era!" Nazir bellowed. The Redguard had been smiling nonstop since I told him of my decision to send him westward. I had worried that he would be offended that I was sending him away, but Nazir's reaction had been, "You mean I don't have to deal with any more singing or dancing or juggling or tumbling? Thank Sithis!"

"All the best assassins in this wagon!" Meena trilled. The Khajiit was driving the second wagon since there wasn't enough room for everyone for just one. I would soon reopen Corinthe Sanctuary in Elsweyr and our frisky feline would be Speaker there. Normally not a move I would make, but as a Khajiit Meena would have a natural cultural advantage in the sandy lands of the catkin.

Also, she had never quite forgiven Cicero for the murder of Rasha, a Khajiit she had never met but a Brother and a Khajiit too. Meena was never one for rules, but she had taken to the Tenets rather religiously, especially the one about not killing another sibling. The two of them had become distant. Instead of Meena's constant flirting there was an uncomfortable silence and I thought it best to separate them before further words could be said.

"Has anyone seen Cicero?" I called out again trying to be heard over the crowd.

"He's hiding down in the catacombs, miss," a twenty-something Breton male told me. I looked at Siltal questioningly.

"Thank you, Frand," Siltal provided for me. I nodded my thanks as well as the younger man scurried to get a seat.

It was getting harder for me to keep track of who was who in the Brotherhood. Not only were there so many more of us now, but I just couldn't bring it in me to get close to anyone.

"Gods dammit, he knows we're heading out today," I growled. "Siltal, come with me. It wouldn't hurt for you to know where we've stashed away the Night Mother's coffin."

"I never got to know the location," Nazir jokingly pouted.

"If you would rather stay here as Speaker, I'll take you instead," I threatened.

"I think I'll manage. It would be a shame to not see Garnag again and trade recipes," Nazir said quickly.

I gestured for Siltal to follow and jumped off the wagon. "Be sure no one takes our seats," I commanded Nazir. "Don't forget Cicero is going to be sitting with me. Be prepared for him to whine nonstop until we get to our first rest stop."

"Lovely," Nazir grumbled. He adjusted the reins of the horses. "At least I'll be given plenty of reason to remember why I want this reassignment."

"Gods, you'd think we were going to castrate Cicero instead of going to the temple of Dibella for some rest and relaxation," I muttered as I headed back into Sanctuary.

Siltal and I ducked and dodged among the dozen and a half assassins gathering around the wagons. Everyone was laughing and chatting excitedly about our trip to Markarth. I had planned this trip for months, ever since I decided to honor Garnag's request to step down as Speaker. In the past, the Black Hand waited for a member to pass before finding a replacement, but that usually happened after a violent death. Garnag was old and had not taken a contract in years. The orc was more than happy to die quietly in his bed instead of alone and hurt on some field somewhere.

The Brotherhood was going to have a private function at the Temple of Dibella in Markarth. The priestesses would be there to wait on us hand and foot fulfilling any desire in the name of their goddess. For a small fee, of course, but I didn't mind. I was throwing plenty of money to the church for their discretion on the matter. I hadn't named our group specifically, but it was likely that the siblings would be sharing stories of kills and it was better to throw a lot of money at the priestesses beforehand instead of trying to play clean up afterwards.

Not only would there be dancing and song, but there would be plenty of food, mead, and wine and access to the famous Markarth piped heated hot tubs. The priestesses of Dibella had taken advantage of the old Dwemer plumbing system for their worship services by setting up several large bathing areas big enough for many people to lounge together and the water to never go cold. Of course, we couldn't forget about how the priestesses of Dibella preferred to worship their goddess – sex and plenty of it.

Most of Wayrest Sanctuary would be meeting us there to get to mingle with their distant brothers and sisters. Garnag had declined to come personally because of health issues, although his letter had a tone of regret of not being able to come. It would be good to see the recruits who had left with Garnag and the ones who have joined since then.

The only person in the Dark Brotherhood not excited about the trip was Cicero. The Keeper had whined and pouted every time the trip was brought up. Cicero was still as stubborn as ever that he had no interest in buying the company of a woman and that he only wanted to serve the Listener. I could have assured him that it was not a problem, but I had a surprise set up in addition to our outing and didn't want to ruin it by telling him. Besides, I felt like letting him squirm for a change.

"Listener, why is the Keeper so vehement against going? Does he prefer men?" Siltal asked. The Temple of Dibella was famous for only having female worshippers. I had made sure that they called in some of their male priests for this trip so our siblings who preferred men wouldn't feel neglected.

I laughed at the thought of Siltal's question. The thought of Cicero climbing onto the lap of a large Nord man and whispering his sweet bed talk into the man's ear as they undressed each other was just too comical. I stopped laughing as the thought continued of the two men kissing passionately while stroking each other's throbbing members right before they turned their lusty eyes to me inviting me to join them. I gulped as I felt heat flush over me at the thought.

"Listener, are you okay?" Siltal asked.

"Just a bit warm," I muttered as I hurried into the cool caves of the catacombs.

The Keeper was exactly where I thought he would be; hidden behind the Night Mother's sarcophagus. I could barely make out his silhouette because he had pulled the coffin so close to the wall this time. Usually Cicero left enough space for me to crawl in with him even if it was a tight fit sometimes.

"Come out, Cicero," I said encouragingly. I was on my hands and knees trying to see into the niche the Keeper was hiding. It was kind of funny when you thought about it. Cicero hated how I would sometimes sit in my wardrobe to think in the dark and quiet, but when he was upset he sequestered himself behind the Night Mother's coffin. "It's time for us to head out."

"Cicero doesn't want to go!" the Keeper said.

"Everyone is going."

"Not Babette, not the un-child. Noooo, she gets to stay at Sanctuary." Babette couldn't go because of her apparent age. I had apologized for excluding her, but she had smiled and simply asked that I bring back a souvenir for her. I wasn't completely comfortable with how her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Don't make me come in there for you," I threatened.

"Ha, ha, ha! As if Hecate could get her fat ass back here," Cicero taunted.

I saw red. "YOU GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, KEEPER!" I yelled putting authority into my voice. The Night Mother's coffin practically flew as Cicero moved it so he could scramble out to be by my side. I grabbed a handful of his red hair making sure to snag some ear and cap in the process. "We're going now!" I growled as I dragged the jester out of the catacombs. I could have sworn I heard a low mental chuckle from Mother as we left, but the Matron was never known for participating in her children's arguments.

When we were outside, I let go of Cicero and pointed him towards our wagon. "Get your butt in there now," I said pushing him with my foot on his bottom. Cicero stumbled from the force of my kick, but he still turned and made a rude gesture at me as he climbed into the wagon. I noted he was still wearing his jester's outfit despite the fact I had clearly told him to be wearing normal clothes when we left. It was no matter; I had packed an extra set of clothes prepared for this little display of rebellion.

I climbed into the wagon behind Cicero and waved to get everyone's attention. "If everyone's ready, it's time!' I called. As I settled into my seat by Cicero, who was still mumbling curses, Aventus stood up from his perch on the other wagon.

"Ready? One, two, three!" The rest of the Brotherhood broke into song. The tune was the same as the Age of Aggression, but with slightly different words:

We're the children of Sithis, and we kill all our lives.

And when Night Mother beckons, every one of them dies!

But this contract is ours and we'll see it redeemed.

For the hope of a bonus and gold that gleams!

* * *

**Morndas 12 First Seed 208 4E 12:00 PM**

We stopped in Morthal for lunch. The rest of the Brotherhood was eating while I rented a room at the Moorside Inn so Cicero could change clothes. I could hear snickers from the others as I marched into the room with the Keeper on my heels. I closed the door ignoring them.

"Cicero, put these on," I said as I pushed the pile of clothes into his hands. "I'll let you keep either your jester boots or gloves, but not both."

"Cicero wants both," he pouted.

"Too bad. You only get one," I crossed my arms. I made sure I was standing between him and the doorway. The jester had never tried to run away so far, but I was always worried that he would and if I ever gave him the opportunity he would take it.

"Cicero wishes to plead his case," the jester said as he casually tossed the outfit I gave him onto the bed. He walked forward so he could place one hand on each side of my head on the door. Cicero grinned wickedly. "May he do so?"

"This will be interesting," I muttered. "Sure, go ahead."

Instead of saying anything, Cicero leaned forward and started kissing me. One hand pulled me into a closer embrace while the other hiked up my skirt. When I started to protest, Cicero said, "Shush, Cicero is getting to his point." Heavy petting continued for several minutes with Cicero's hands roaming all over my body while his mouth assaulted mine.

As my breathing deepened, Cicero leaned back so he could pull off his right glove with his teeth. "Now, Hecate is ready to listen to Cicero's words," he whispered in my ear before licking the lobe. His right hand slid back down under my skirt and pushed away my smallclothes already damp with desire. "Hecate says one is best," Cicero said as he traced one finger along my folds before plunging in to slide back and forth.

I mewled with pleasure trying to stifle my cries. We were pressed right against the door and I worried the others would hear me. Cicero chuckled against my neck as he rubbed with his thumb against my clit. "What are you doing?" I gasped.

"Making a point," Cicero said. "As you can see, one is fine, but both are better." He slid another finger in and increased the tempo. I bit down on his shoulder tasting the rough velvet in my mouth to refrain from moaning. I hooked one leg around Cicero's waist, pulling him closer. My hips thrust in counterpoint to Cicero's rhythm.

My tension mounted and I was on the verge of release when Cicero changed the rhythm and removed one finger. "But Hecate only wants one! Now do you see why Cicero wants both?" The jester's eyes were glittering with amusement at my vexed expression.

"One, Keeper," I insisted, "and if you're on your very best behavior at Markarth, I'll let you wear your jester's cap all the way home." Cicero nodded in agreement. Of all of his articles of clothing, the cap was his favorite and I rarely let him wear it outside of Sanctuary. "Now, you have five minutes to finish what you started."

"Cicero only needs three," he smirked.

Morndas 12 First Seed 208 4E 12:30 PM

Cicero and I emerged from the room minutes later. I was satisfactorily flushed; the Keeper had been as good as his word. Cicero was humming happily as he adjusted his jester's gloves with his tunic. I glanced around the huge common room and noticed everyone staring at us.

"Okay, everyone, pay out!" Siltal said. Several siblings groaned as they walked over and handed coin purses to the High Elf who meticulously made notes in her ledger as she took and gave coins.

"What is going on?" I asked Nazir.

The Redguard laughed. "Oh, there was a betting pool on whether the two of you would sneak off and have sex at the first rest stop or not."

"Siltal!" I yelled, "I cannot believe you concocted this little scheme."

"Not I," the Altmer shook her head. "Babette arranged the whole thing. Set up odds and took bets. I'm just a neutral party collecting on her behalf since she cannot be here."

I growled. That little vampire! I knew she was up to something.

"We weren't even that loud," I grumbled.

"Cicero wasn't," Nazir admitted, "but it's a little hard to miss whenever you…ahem."

"When I what, Speaker?" I asked narrowing my eyes.

"When you finish," Nazir mumbled, his dark cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Your dragon language thing always makes the area around shudder."

"Oh gods," I slapped my head in my hands. The initiates' room was just down the hall from mine. I could only imagine what they thought. I looked up. "Where's Cicero?"

"I think he went outside," Nazir said quickly, obviously glad to change the topic. Most of the Brotherhood was filing outside to get back into the wagons since lunch was done.

I went outside and saw Siltal give a pouch of gold to Cicero. The Keeper pocketed the coins, smiling wickedly.

"What in the Void?" I asked as I approached them.

"Cicero made a wager, Listener," Siltal said not looking at me. I glared at Cicero who just shrugged.

"Cicero likes a challenge," he said simply grinning smugly. "Not that it was really a challenge at all."

"CICERO YOU FOOL!" I yelled. The thu'um activated and the Fool of Hearts went flying into the air laughing maniacally. I think he landed in some bushes or a tree by the sound of his landing.

"Pay out!" Siltal called. Once again siblings lined up to cash in their wagers.

"Oh for the sake of Zenithar!" I said my cheeks red with embarrassment. "How many of these are there?"

"I didn't count, but there's a list," Siltal admitted as she made change for a smiling Bosmer sister.

"Give me the list!" I insisted.

"Pay out!" Siltal called out again as she handed me a scroll.

"Oblivion!" I cursed as siblings went back into line to redeem or pay up on apparently the next bet Babette had set up. "I swear when I get back to Sanctuary, I'm going to have a talk with that little bloodsucker!"

The list was rather long, but only the top three were about me specifically. There were a variety of odds depending on certain factors such as if I had found out about the list before or if it was raining and we decided to stop for our first rest stop in the woods versus plains. I grumbled as I looked at the rest of the list; all of them depending on what Cicero did during the trip.

"Two to one odds that Cicero runs around Markarth naked. Three to one odds that Cicero will try to stab a priestess. Two to one odds that Cicero will do something that will warrant him being arrested. Five to three odds that he'll avoid being arrested," I muttered reading the list. It went on for quite a bit in that fashion of how much mischief Cicero would get up to while he was out of Sanctuary.

At the bottom was a note for me written in Babette's elegant, neat handwriting:

_Dear Listener,_

_I hope you do not mind the little amusement I set up. As you know I am unable to venture out with the rest of our family, so I have to find entertainment where I can. I thought this would also be a good way to recuperate the money I lost training my enchantment instead of focusing on my alchemy business. You do understand, dearest sister, that making money is vital for funding some of my personal projects and I must be ever vigilant in not interrupting them less I deal with dire consequences._

_Nonetheless, I hope you have wonderful time and that the Keeper enjoys his little gift._

_Sincerely,_

_Babette_

I crumpled the list in my hand. I had asked a big favor from Babette when I wanted her to learn how to put multiple enchantments on a single item. The vampire had spent a lot of her spare time enchanting various blades and armor for the family. No doubt at a fair price, but it still took her away from her preferred profession of alchemy. Only master enchanters could do what I had needed and it had taken a long time for Babette to reach that level of proficiency.

I sighed. No doubt she had included that note to either placate or guilt me into not yelling at her when I got home. I hated the fact that it was working.

"Gods, why is Babette so obsessed with my sex life?" I muttered to myself.

"Probably because she cannot have one," Meena purred as she passed to get back into the driver's seat of her wagon, "and you're so damn loud."

"It's not on purpose!" I complained. "I do try to be quiet." I climbed up to sit next to Meena. Maybe the Khajiit had a point. Babette was forever frozen physically as a ten-year-old. I was never sure how mentally mature she was, but maybe she was curious about the act to the point of voyeurism.

"All the women get into Meena's wagon!" I yelled. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cicero emerging from the forest covered in twigs. "Once the lot of you are done gambling, we'll head out."

"Did she ask for the list?" Cicero asked Siltal. The High Elf nodded and handed the Keeper his winnings. Cicero laughed as he pocketed that as well. The redhead turned and tried to climb into the wagon next to me.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"Riding with Hecate," Cicero answered, unapologetic as always. I wished he would at least look guilty for seducing me to win a bet, but honestly I knew better at this point. Cicero played to win always.

"Not this time," I said as I put my boot on Cicero's head and pushed him off the wagon. The jester grunted as he landed heavily on the ground. "Girls only on this part of the trip."

"Oh, but Listener, Cicero wants to ride with only you!" Cicero said in a female falsetto as he jumped to his feet. He lovingly rubbed his face against my calf before I could pull it back. "Don't be mad at Cicero for a having a little fun."

"I'm not mad at you," I sighed. "Well, I am, but that's not why I'm making you ride in the other wagon. I have something I want to discuss and it's only with the female initiates."

"Oh, about what?" Cicero asked switching back to his normal high pitched voice. His eyes were wide with sincerity.

"Girl stuff," I said tilting my head to indicate emphasis.

"Like menstruation?" Cicero blinked in confusion. "Don't you think they're a bit old for that particular talk?"

"No, you Fool! Gods, why do you even care? It's girl stuff for girls to talk about and you're a boy!"

"I'm glad you noticed," Cicero waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Cicero doesn't mind if the women talk about women stuff. It's better than being forced to ride on the other wagon." He gestured and I could see that the male wagon was pretty crowded. There were about twice as many men than women in our Sanctuary.

"I know you don't like to be crowded, but it's only until dinner," I said gently. "Besides, don't you always complain of how lonely you used to be? Now is a good chance to get to know some of your brothers."

"Cicero would rather get to know his sisters," the jester said as he shot a flirtatious smile to the Bosmer sister.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" I asked.

"Is it working?"

"No."

"Then most definitely not," Cicero promised.

"Go ride in the other wagon, Keeper," I said firmly. "If you have to then pull rank to get the other half of the driver's seat next to Nazir."

"As you wish, oh great and powerful Listener," Cicero said sarcastically with half-lidded eyes. Gods, he was going to make me pay for pushing him away. He half ran to the other wagon to secure his seat.

"Don't feel guilty," Meena advised. "Being apart should be good for the two of you. This one swears you're practically joined at the hip with the red one nowadays."

"I don't feel guilty," I said as I watched Cicero climb on the driver's seat and started dancing at the encouragement of his brothers. Nazir was holding his head in his hands grumbling. "I'm worried. Cicero had that look."

"What look?" Siltal asked.

"The 'I'm going to do something crazy to get the Listener's undivided attention' look," I said.

"And only a day and a half until we get to Markarth proper," Siltal sighed. "Are you sure it was a good idea to force the Keeper to come along, Listener?"

My hand drifted to the small box in my belt pouch that held the gift I had worked so hard for Cicero. "Yes, I have something special planned."

Nazir started his wagon, ignoring that Cicero was doing a handstand, and the boys pulled ahead. Cicero quickly flipped back into a sitting position, but he was turned backwards so he could still see me. His expression as worried, although I didn't know if because he hated being away from me outside of Sanctuary or he was concerned what I was up to. I blew a kiss and he made sure to catch it before smiling foolishly.

Once the men were out of hearing distance, I turned to the women. Meena was driving the wagon slowly so we wouldn't catch up too quickly. Other than Siltal, there was the Bosmer, a Dunmer, and a Nord. I suddenly realized I had no idea what their names were and felt ashamed. I should know all of my family's names, right?

"Um," I cleared my throat suddenly bashful, "there was something I wanted to broach before we got to Markarth." I fiddled with my hands as I blushed.

"Oh for Mara's sake," Meena growled. "Meena never understands why Hecate gets so shy about sex." She turned to the others, "The Listener brought birth control tea for anyone who needs it. We don't want any little assassins in nine months. Or however long you elves gestate."

I reached into my pouch and pulled out the packets that Babette had prepared for the trip. Eager hands emptied mine quickly.

"That was easy," the Nord laughed. She was tall and almost gangly. Her long, curly brown hair framed her face prettily. "Any restrictions on who we can bed, Listener?"

"No," I said. "I used to be a little uncomfortable with sleeping with siblings, but it would be hypocritical to say that now, wouldn't it?"

"So, the Keeper is fair game?" the Bosmer teased. I really did need to learn everyone's names.

"Good luck with that," Meena laughed. She hadn't taken any of the tea, but as a Khajiit she couldn't get pregnant with men or mer and didn't need it. "I tried years ago and Hecate kicked this one's ass in a brawl." The other women were obviously impressed. I smiled at Meena and mouthed 'thanks' to her.

"Cicero has a vow that he'll only lay with the Listener," I clarified. "He says it is part of his Keeping duties." I really hoped that wasn't true anymore or at least it wasn't the main reason he slept with me. It was a useful reason for the others in the Brotherhood to not approach him though.

"Is the Keeper good in bed?" the Bosmer asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"She wouldn't scream so much if he wasn't," the Dunmer retorted.

"Why are we talking about this?" I asked flustered.

"Because it's what women do when men aren't around," Siltal said winking as she handed me some bread and cheese to nibble. "We talk about men and their bedroom prowess."

"Honestly, I don't see the appeal for Cicero," the Nord said. She leaned back against the side of the wagon. "He's much too old for me and spoken for. I'd take Aventus any day. That's a stallion that needs to be broken."

Hearing about Aventus sexually was more awkward than answering questions about Cicero. I had been leery to bring the boy on this trip, but he was old enough and a full-fledged assassin in his own right. Except for Meena, he had been with the Brotherhood the longest out of the recruits after we relocated to Dawnstar.

"Do you think he is a virgin?" the Dunmer asked. "Aventus is fairly young."

"With a body like that? I'm sure he's had a few close calls for little assassins," the Nord smirked.

Maybe I should have allowed Cicero to ride with us after all. If he was here, they wouldn't be talking about this right now. I looked at Siltal, my face full of misery.

"Don't worry, Listener," she said patting my hand sympathetically. "I prefer women, so I won't lust after your adopted son. Although I would not turn down an Altmer male. Have any of you slept with one? We are called the superior race for a reason."

I rotated in my seat so my back was to the gossiping females as they speculated who was the most endowed and if any of the brothers were interested in them. I vaguely remember participating in such gossip when I was a soldier for the Imperial army, but that was several lifetimes ago and I was barely old enough to be called a woman. Had it really been twenty years ago?

"The two of you are good for each other," Meena said casually. "Meena didn't get to see what you were like before Dawnstar, but in five years she has seen how well you complement each other. When one is loud, the other is quiet. When one is crazed, the other is sane. Meena is glad she did not defeat Hecate for leadership of the Brotherhood. Even if she is pleased to be named Speaker soon."

"Thank you, Meena," I said softly. I found the small box in my hands. I don't remember taking it out of my pouch, but my hands restlessly roam over it turning it over and over.

"What's that?" Meena asked, curious as always.

"Focus on driving, cat," I said good-naturedly. Meena wrinkled her whiskers as she stuck her tongue out at me, but she listened for a change. My heart thudded heavily as I played with the box some more. I wanted Cicero to be the first to see what I labored so hard for him.

After three years of waiting, Cicero was finally going to get his ring.


	4. Pit Stop

**Morndas 12 First Seed 208 4E 6:00 PM**

"We're stopping for the night," Nazir said as the women's cart drew parallel with the men's wagon. "It should be dark in an hour and I prefer to set up camp while I can see."

Nazir had picked a pretty field with some nearby hills for our camping spot. Honestly, it was difficult to find ugly terrain in Skyrim, but this was an ideal camping area with fresh water and protection from the mountain winds. It was still technically winter, but you could feel the hint of spring in the air.

I was more than ready to stop for the night after almost six hours of the other women trading stories of sexual exploits and positions. Meena didn't surprise me with some of her stories considering other tales I had heard from her over the years, but I would never be able to look at the others the same again.

They had asked me for some of my own experiences, but the only thing I would say was, "Last time I shared a private story like that the person played a trick on me by giving me an amulet of Mara." The other women had laughed and respected my privacy after that.

The men's wagon had not quite come to a complete stop when Cicero tumbled off and ran to the hills screaming, "Freedom! Terrible, terrible freedom! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Aren't you going to go after him?" Nazir asked worried. He watched Cicero disappear over a hill rise.

"No," I shook my head as I helped the Redguard unload a kettle and supplies for dinner. Around us siblings were setting up tents, unrolling sleeping bags, and preparing several campfires. "Cicero is just doing that for attention and if I run after him it will only encourage him. He'll come back once he works off his energy or gets nervous from being outdoors alone."

Over a decade alone in Cheydinhal with only the Night Mother for company had affected Cicero in so many ways. I didn't know what he was like before, but now the jester was pretty agoraphobic – he couldn't deal with large, open places very well or large crowds of people. I had no doubt being on the rather full wagon for the last several hours had been hard on him and would make it up somehow when the Keeper got back.

Nazir and I sat down to peel vegetables for stew. I enjoyed the companionable silence as we deftly peeled and chopped potatoes, onions, and peppers. The Redguard always seemed most comfortable when he was in the kitchen, like it was his own private domain.

"Astrid would never have made a trip like this back in the day," Nazir suddenly commented. I looked up in surprise. In six years, I don't think Nazir had mentioned any of the old members of Falkreath Sanctuary. "I'm glad you thought of it. I think the last time I went to Markarth for pleasure was with Veezara." The man's voice hitched a bit at mentioning the kind Argonian's name. I felt tears gathering behind my eyes when I thought of the last Shadowscale of Tamriel. Veezara had been so gentle and sweet. He had deserved a better death than the one he got.

"I think that I miss Festus Krex the most," I said uncertain if I should say anything. "Cranky old bastard that he was, always bemoaning how we kept him up all hours of the night, he had been a good mentor to me and always enjoyed teaching me about the Old Ways," Nazir and I laughed at the memory. The old Imperial wizard had been set in his ways and made sure the rest of us knew it, but he had also been enthusiastic and the first one to be kind to Cicero when the Keeper came to Sanctuary.

Sometimes I still dreamed of finding his corpse pinned to the tree. It had been the first thing I saw upon my return to Sanctuary in my attempt to stop the Penitus Oculatus from destroying the Brotherhood. My mind would turn over and over the image of Festus' body pin-cushioned to the tree, his arms thrown up in a vain attempt to stop the onslaught of arrows so I couldn't see his face. I thought if I had just seen his face one last time the image wouldn't haunt me so, but I hadn't.

"Do you remember when Arnbjorn found that Cicero had 'borrowed' his clothes to paint and had gotten blue all over his favorite shirt?" Nazir laughed. "He transformed right there in Sanctuary and chased the clown all over until Astrid commanded that he stop!" We both laughed remembering Cicero running for dear life as the werewolf chased him.

As we continued to share stories of our dead family, I realized that maybe Nazir was happy to be leaving Skyrim for another reason. High Rock would be a chance to start over and not be haunted by the memories of those we lost. He had been part of the family a lot longer than I and had known the others a lot better. Even relocating to Dawnstar couldn't completely bury the memory of those gone. Maybe, like Babette, Nazir blamed Cicero—and to a lesser degree me—for the incredible changes that happened to the Brotherhood.

"Listener," Cicero said from behind me. I turned and saw the redhead grinning mischievously. At least he didn't try to startle me this time. Maybe because I was holding a sharp knife in one hand. I could see Cicero had one hand hidden while the other held a tether to a goat. "A gift." He handed the tether to me.

"Wherever did you get a goat?" I asked perplexed.

"The same place I got this," Cicero bragged as he pulled his other hand from behind his back and handed me a bowl of some…thing. It was yellow and sort of lumpy. It looked disgusting.

"Dear gods, I hope you don't expect me to eat this," I said as I wrinkled my nose at the weird smell coming from the material. I held it at arm's length.

"I think that's mammoth cheese," Nazir said as he gazed at the lump. He swiped a finger though it and tasted it. "Yep, it is. Not very good on its own, but it goes great with mammoth steak and hard bread."

"Cicero, don't tell me you snuck into a giant's camp and stole this," I said dreading the answer.

"Fine, loyal Cicero won't tell Hecate that," Cicero said agreeably enough. The earth shaking belied his words. "Doesn't mean it's not true, though."

"Giant!" Aventus called, pointing towards the hill rise. A head crested the horizon followed by twelve feet worth of gangly legs and arms covered only by a crude loincloth. A huge mammoth leg bone rested easily on one shoulder. Siblings scrambled to pull out bows and started shooting the huge man as he lumbered towards our camp. Arrows bounced off the tough skin of the giant who ignored them like a farmer ignores flies.

Nazir jumped to his feet and pulled his large curved sword. The Redguard gave a battle cry and started to run towards the giant, but I stopped him. "Don't get close! One blow is enough to shatter bones. Everyone stay back!"

The camp was chaos as people scrambled in every direction to keep the giant from focusing on any one group. Siltal and a few other spell casters summoned bolts of energy to try to bring down the giant. Paralytic and other illusion spells had no effect on the huge man as he swung his bone club through fragile tents.

I ran towards the wagons with the goat bleating loudly behind me as I led it on the tether. I had forgotten it was tied to my hand until I went to climb into the wagon. I looped the rope around a handle a couple of times before hauling myself into the wagon's bed. Overconfident in our safety in numbers, I had carelessly left my bow behind. If I could grab it, I knew I could kill the giant with one blow. Surely a primitive man couldn't be harder to kill than a dragon.

I threw bags of packed clothes and other supplies to the side as I desperately looked for Styx. The bleating of the goat got louder as the earth rumbled harder. I looked up and saw the giant was coming right for us, his attention focused on the crying goat. Oh gods, of course he wanted his goat back. I gave up looking for the bow to rush to untie the goat instead. If it ran away, maybe the giant would simply follow it instead of wreaking more havoc.

I tried to get up too fast and tripped over the hem of my skirt. I grunted in pain as I fell onto my side. I dragged myself to the wagon side and tried to grab the tether with thick fingers, but I was just a little too far away.

A shadow fell over me causing me to look up to see the giant looming over me. He swung back his arm with the ten-foot-long mammoth bone, ready to bring it crashing down on my skull. I threw my arm up knowing it would do no good, but what else was there to do at that point?

This was how I was going to die. Not while on contract and stopped by a lucky sword swing or a well-meaning adventurer or by a fire-breathing dragon rampaging a village, but by a random giant while on my way to a trip to a brothel because Cicero got bored and wanted to play a joke. I silently sent a prayer that I would be given permission to stand before the Night Mother in the Void and tell her exactly how stupid her Keeper was.

A blur filled my vision and I braced myself thinking it was my death blow. Instead I felt soft cloth as Cicero embraced me. He was between me and the giant's club. "What are you doing?" I wanted to yell, but my voice was frozen. The Keeper said nothing as he threw up his arm and a ward formed between us and the club as it crashed against the barrier.

"Cicero is trained in alteration," he laughed at my shocked surprise. "It would be foolish to not have learned some protective magic too." Cicero grimaced as the club crashed down again. "Not that well trained though. Cicero won't be able to keep this up for long."

Giants are simple creatures. They are happy to live in their fields and herd their mammoths keeping to themselves. Some cause trouble and bounties are sent out by the jarls to rid Skyrim of their menace, but in general they are a peaceful people. Until some fool riles them up by stealing from them or harassing their mammoths.

The thing that many people forget is that giants are simple, not stupid. Thus it wasn't a surprise that the giant realized his attack wasn't working after three or four whacks. We should have been little more than paste and the wagon completely destroyed, but we weren't. So the giant changed tactics and instead of an overhead attack, he switched to a side swing. It caught Cicero's ward on the side and sent the Keeper flying away into the nearby river.

"Hecate, Shout!" Aventus cried.

I tried, but my voice was still locked. I mentally cursed myself for not continuing to look for my bow, but only seconds had passed since the giant's attack. I struggled to my feet hoping I could dive off the wagon in time as the giant reared back for another swing.

Before he could complete his arc, the giant staggered as Aventus crashed into him. The young Imperial swung his own huge great mace into the back giant's knees forcing him to fall to his knees. Aventus scrambled up the giant's back like a large boulder hitting the giant over and over again. I didn't know it was possible to swing a great mace that fast. Aventus made his own side swing hitting the giant in the chin forcing his head back with a loud snap. There was a sickening thud and the giant fell down and was still.

A cheer went up among the Brotherhood as Aventus swung one last powerful attack, crushing the giant's skull. The boy had learned a long time ago that you always make sure your target was dead before you leave. He turned to me and placed a gentle palm on my cheek. "Are you okay?" Aventus asked.

I nodded, but I could feel the tears running down my face. I was shaking over so hard I could barely hold onto the side of the wagon. I had thought I was going to die. I had accepted the fact I was going to die. Yet, here I was still breathing. Maybe being a child of Fate had worked in my favor for a change.

"Hey, hey, hey," Aventus said gently trying to calm me. "You're fine. Nothing bad happened." He leaned forward and I thought he was going to give me a brotherly kiss or I would never have leaned forward. Instead the kiss was passionate with full hungry lips and Aventus' tongue darting into my mouth.

I jerked away as if I had been burned. I felt like I was going to throw up. This was Aventus! The same boy I had recruited and held after his first kill. The boy who I tucked into bed and told stories to help him sleep.

"I want Cicero," I whispered as I slid behind the wagon's side making a barrier between Aventus and me.

"Why?" Aventus asked confused. His brow furrowed in confusion. "He's the reason this happened. You should be furious with him."

"I want Cicero!" I yelled. I hated how strained I sounded, but I was still in shock.

"I'm here," the Keeper said. I threw myself into Cicero's embrace not caring that he was soaking wet from pulling himself out of the river. "Cicero is here."

"Stupid, selfish, unthinking fool!" I yelled as I pounded Cicero's chest and shoulders. "Think for once! Gods!" The goat still tied to the wagon bleated in agreement. The creature's cries made me burst into jagged laughter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Cicero chanted in my ear. It was the first time he had ever actually apologized to me for his antics. In the past it was always sarcastically or a defensive measure against my anger. "Cicero thought he had snuck in and out without the giant noticing. Cicero would have fun with Hecate sneaking the goat back and running away."

"Cicero, I almost died!" I said crying.

"No, Hecate was never in any danger," Cicero insisted. "Loyal Cicero protected Hecate just as he promised he would."

"Until you were knocked way," I reminded him. I pointed to Aventus. "Aventus had to…"I paused as I looked at the other man. Aventus was glaring angrily, but it wasn't at me. His expression was pure hatred and it was for Cicero.

"You're dismissed, assassin," Cicero said calmly. He gave Aventus a sideways glance smirking as he spoke. "Good kill."

Aventus hauled himself up onto the rim of the wagon wheel so he was closer to eye level with Cicero. In truth, he loomed over the shorter man. "You have some answering for your actions, Keeper."

"Whatever for?" Cicero asked flippantly. "Everything is fine. The giant is dead and no one is hurt."

"Only by luck!" Aventus growled. "It should never have happened. Hecate is right, she could have died. What would you have done after killing a second family member?"

"Watch your tongue, boy," Cicero snarled. "Don't speak of what you don't know. Cicero has always followed the Tenets!"

"Then why did you think you had been punished by the Night Mother?" Aventus retorted. "Why were you so worried about Hecate finding out if you had done nothing wrong? I wasn't in Sanctuary much at that time, but I still remember seeing a few of your rants of fear of being found out and expelled from the Brotherhood. Maybe we would have been better off with you gone!"

I could feel Cicero's entire body stiffen at the threat. I looked up and his face was as pale as a ghost. He was looking back at me, his eyes huge in terror. "Please," he whispered so softly I almost didn't hear him, "don't send Cicero away. Cicero was wrong! Cicero will behave!"

"Go wait in my tent," I told him gently. I could see the signs of Cicero going into a bad fit and it would only be worsen without the Night Mother to comfort him. I kissed Cicero's forehead before sending him to wait for me. My chest hurt as I watched Cicero slink away, his form seeming smaller than usual. So much of him was wrapped around the image of bravado a jester enjoys.

"Why him?" Aventus asked after Cicero left. "What makes him so special that you would choose him? You owe that clown nothing!"

I grabbed the front of Aventus' tunic and pulled him close to me. My eyes were cold as I stared into his large brown ones. "You are never to address Cicero as clown. He may have decided to take the role of jester, but he is never to be thought of as a clown. Of all of us, Cicero has been the most loyal and given up the most for the Night Mother. If you don't respect his position as Keeper, then you will at the very least respect the Night Mother. To speak ill of her attendant is to speak ill of our Mother. Do I make myself clear?"

Aventus nodded and I released him. The taller man quietly smoothed his clothes as he took a step back. I had to admit that Aventus had grown into a very handsome man. Any woman would swoon for him to pay the slightest bit of attention, except me apparently.

"You still didn't answer my question," Aventus pressed. "Why Cicero? Why not me?" His expression was pained. This conversation felt too similar to the one I had with Cicero last year in Solitude on why I could tell Aventus 'I love you', but not Cicero. I wondered if they had any idea how similar they were.

"Aventus, I have never tried to be anything other than a sister and Listener to you," I said as gently as possible. "If I misled you in some way, I am terribly sorry, but that was never my intent. I will never be more than a sister to you."

"I seem to recall you saying something similar about Cicero a long time ago," Aventus insisted. "We all see how that turned out." I flushed with embarrassment. "All my time in the Brotherhood all I've ever seen between the two of you is fighting and yelling. Most of the time you don't even seem to like Cicero. So, why choose him? Is it some sort of misguided sense of loyalty or obligation? Do you want to keep him under your control? Why?"

"Aventus, are you familiar with the story of the Lucky Old Lady?" I asked. He shook his head negatively. "There was once a woman who was the daughter of a prostitute and an unknown man. The children bullied her for not knowing who her father was and every day she went home in tears. One day a priest of Stendarr assured her that she had kind eyes and a mouth that told lies. 'You are clearly a child of Stendarr, the God of Mercy, Charity, and Well-Earned Luck.' After this, when children asked of her father's identity, she responded with, 'I am a child of Luck.' The woman grew up to be a beautiful barmaid who one day was kind to a man in rags who turned out to be an Imperial prince. He married her for her kindness and she never knew sorrow after that. At some point a statue of her surrounded by children was erected in Bravil, her home town.

"The Night Mother's crypt used to be housed under that statue and many historians of the Brotherhood believed that Lucky Old Lady and the Night Mother is the same person. As her metaphorical children, we are children of luck. And what is luck but fate making its will known? I have always felt like Fate's daughter thrown about at her fickle whim.

"I denied my feelings for Cicero for a long time not because I didn't believe they were true, but because I didn't want them to be true. I wanted to be wild and carefree instead of bound to one man. Especially when I knew I would outlive him by a very long time. Fate didn't care about what I wanted and I was much happier when I accepted it instead of fighting against my destiny. In short, we were meant to be together."

"That is such bullshit!" Aventus practically spat. "You're just refusing to accept responsibility as much as Cicero." He brushed his wild brown hair back in frustration. "Someday, I hope you can realize how wrong Cicero is for you. I also hope I can still be there for you." Aventus picked up his mace and stomped off towards the hill rise. He yelled over his shoulder, "I'm going to make sure the giant camp is cleared out so we don't have to worry about an attack in the night. If anyone wants to accompany me, they are more than welcome!"

I noted that the Nord sister jumped up and ran eagerly after Aventus. I hoped that the camp was unoccupied. Most giants were solitary, but some did keep company with another of their species. I cannot think of a time I had seen more than two giants in the same camp. Ideally the Nord would be able to help Aventus work off his frustration and her curiosity about his bedroom manners would be sated. Not something I ever imagined that I would hope.

I hopped off the wagon and helped survey the damage of the camp. There were a lot of trampled sleeping rolls and smashed tents, but thankfully no one had been hurt. The giant had focused on getting his goat back and only had left a trail of destruction in a single path. I discussed with Nazir and Siltal if there would be any problem with bedding, but the Redguard seemed satisfied that it wouldn't be problematic.

"What are you going to do about Cicero?" Siltal asked carefully. She glanced towards the hill rise Aventus and the Nord had crested about an hour ago. "Or Aventus for that matter?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "What can I realistically do to punish Cicero? Berate him? I cannot really lock him up or otherwise restrain him. It was a moment of poor judgment and I can only hope he learned from it." I shrugged. "As far as Aventus, he's young and there's a pretty girl with him. I can only hope he'll come back in a better mood."

"I worry about the chain of command," Nazir grumbled as he stirred the stew he had managed to make out of salvaged vegetables and meat. "People may think they can get away with crazy antics if we ignore this."

"There's a difference between family matters and business matters," I said firmly. "I trust you two will make sure the others understand that difference. If you mess up as a sibling that is one thing, but to mess up representing us as assassins is another. I have many more options with the other siblings than I do with either Cicero or Aventus. Emphasize rank and seniority as much as possible for reasons for leniency."

Nazir and Siltal exchanged a look before nodding agreement.

"Thank you. I know I can depend on you two," I said gratefully. "Now, I'm going to take some of that stew and talk to Cicero. I think he's had enough of a time out and I don't want him too much on edge when I talk to him." Nazir handed me two bowls of steaming food and a loaf of bread.

I walked over to the tent Cicero had entered. I could see his silhouette and it worried me how still he was. I couldn't hear humming or singing, but there was a low murmur of worried muttering. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Foolish, foolish Cicero!"

"I'm coming in," I called as I pushed the tent flap aside. "I brought you dinner."

"Thank you, kind Listener," Cicero said humbly as he accepted the food. "Cicero should be serving the wise Listener."

"Stop being so formal," I scowled as I sat across from the Keeper. "I'm not here to yell at you."

"You're not?" Cicero was suspicious. "That's different."

"I guess I've grown a little over the years. Gods know I've had to learn patience with you," I said calmly as I stirred my hot food. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course!"

"Then why did you feel a need to retaliate when I requested for you to ride a different wagon for a few hours?" I asked. "It would seem to me if you really did trust me; you wouldn't need to react like that."

"Cicero was just joking," he said defensively.

"I know you're smart enough to know when it is appropriate to joke and when not to," I said. I took Cicero's hand. "It's okay to be apart for a little while. It happens all the time to normal people."

"We hardly qualify as normal," the jester snorted. "If Cicero is not Keeping Mother, an hour away from Hecate feels like an eternity. Cicero is scared that something will happen if he is not there to protect the Listener."

"Believe it or not, I'm actually pretty capable of taking care of myself," I reminded him, "being the Dragonborn and all."

"The Listener will always need Cicero!" Cicero insisted. He looked agitated as he slid until his side was pressed against mine.

"That's true," I agreed, "but I also need privacy sometimes. Just like you sometimes do. It's not unreasonable for you to respect that."

"Cicero will think about it," he hedged not quite willing to agree so easily but not really finding a good argument either. Cicero changed tactics. "Cicero was right about Aventus too!"

"You were," I sighed.

"He kissed you," Cicero said, his voice small.

"He did."

"You pushed him away." Gleeful now.

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because there's only you," I said giving Cicero a small kiss on his cheek. The Fool grinned wildly. "Always, only you."

"Maybe pretty Barri will make young Aventus forget all about his unrequited crush," Cicero practically purred, his confidence restored.

"You know her name?" I asked.

"Of course! Cicero knows all of his siblings," the Keeper bragged. "Clever Cicero never forgets a face!"

"Well, you better tutor me," I sighed. "Somewhere along the line I lost track of all our family."

"For shame, Listener!" Cicero scowled.

"It's one of the many reasons I keep you around," I teased. Cicero smiled as I ran my hand along his arm. "Now, instruct me, Keeper."

"As you wish, my Listener."


	5. Vlindrel Hall

**Middas 14 First Seed 208 4E 8:00 PM**

I should have been having the time of my life. The Brotherhood had arrived in Markarth with no further mishaps late last night. The Wayrest Sanctuary was already waiting for us at the Silver-Blood inn. Between the two Sanctuaries, we rented all of the rooms which caused grumpy old Kerah, the matron of the establishment, to grin happily for the first time I had ever seen. Kleppr, her down-trodden husband, was kept busy serving drinks and cleaning up after the rambunctious Brotherhood. Coin and wine flowed freely.

Of the initiates I remembered, only Elbent and Eiruki made it to the reunion. The others had died in various failed contracts over the years. I was surprised. I shouldn't have been, but I was. I had been so careful to keep my close family safe that it never occurred to me that we would lose other family members. Assassins died all the time, maybe even more often than adventurers since we tend to work alone instead of in groups. The news did put a small damper on the activities, but that wasn't what was causing my anxiety.

I was having second thoughts about my plan to give Cicero his ring. Maybe I should wait until we got back to Sanctuary and just hand it to him before the Night Mother. Surely the Keeper would prefer that instead of what I was going to do instead.

At some point tonight, I was going to tell Cicero to wait for me at Vlindrel Hall, a private residence I had purchased a while back but never had a chance to use. Markarth was too far west for me to need to visit often and Forsworn activity didn't make it viable to visit casually. I was going to have the Dibella priestesses help me with makeup and clothes before meeting my Keeper for a private rendezvous.

It had seemed like a good idea to plan a romantic evening together, but I really had no talent for such plots. What if I messed it up somehow? I feared I had messed things up by not being more forthright with Cicero about the purpose of the trip. Maybe if I had told him I had a surprise, he wouldn't have caused the giant attack on the camp. But I had feared if Cicero wasn't distracted with the brothel visit he would find out about the ring beforehand. And it would be nice for just once for me to be the one who pulled the strings and had the Keeper dancing to my tune for a change. Just once.

What if Cicero laughed at me? Not in his usual teasing way, but honest mockery for me trying to play the romantic? I hated romantic gestures and had never once tried anything like this. Worse, what if Cicero got mad at me? What if he hated me for tricking him? It's the fool's role to taunt and tease, not his master's and I knew how possessive Cicero could be about what he considered his responsibilities.

The dress had been the worst part of this whole ordeal. I had agonized on over what to wear. Should I wear something completely seductive or something modest? Leathers or cloth? My jester motley? I had even taken a trip to Solitude and agreed to try an experimental article of clothing for Taarie. It was a new type of smallclothes called panties which fit much more closely to the skin and made of satin instead of rough wool.

"Honestly, I have no idea how you people survived this long without better clothes," the High Elf had sniffed disdainfully. I had been holding the small strip of cloth between gingerly between two fingers afraid I would somehow manage to stain the material with my hands.

When I had finally settled on a dress, Taarie had tried to talk me out of it and to use one of her new styles. I insisted on the style I requested though. It had significant meaning and I refused to let Taarie, to her horror, make any Altmer modifications. After confirming my measurements, I told the Raiment to send the dress to the Dibella shrine in Markarth.

Currently I was relaxing in one of the smaller hot tubs enjoying the swirl of hot water easing the aches of travel from my bones. Off to the side was an indoor waterfall that pleasantly churned a much larger communal pool. Some family members had opted to try the pools naked at the behest of the priestesses, but I was wearing my normal underclothes. Cicero, also in his smallclothes, was sitting on the edge of the pool grumbling to himself.

The Brotherhood had shown up at the temple around noon and enjoyed nonstop food and drink as well as the priestesses fulfilling requests for song and dance. Some dances involved the patrons to sit very still while the priestess ground against him. Nazir seemed to enjoy this particular type of dancing very much.

"I honestly didn't think it would be necessary to say, but you do realize no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to, right?" I said cracking one eye open to look at the redhead. "I figured that would be obvious after I had to take your dagger away earlier."

I had been enjoying one of the special dances from a very enthusiastic priestess. Apparently they didn't get many female patrons and they loved to praise how soft I felt and how nice I smelled while brushing against me. I was reveling in the free range flesh since it had been years since I had indulged in the company of a woman. I had to agree that women were much softer in all the right places than men.

One priestess had made the mistake of approaching Cicero. The Keeper had responded by pulling his ebony dagger and chasing the shrieking priestess around the temple while yelling threats at her. Thankfully I had warned the matron of such a possible occurrence and coin was exchanged to soothe ruffled feathers. The priestess had been given a reprimand to stay away from Cicero who lost his blade and was shuttled off to Frand who was more than eager to take the burden of comforting the poor, topless girl.

Siltal's cry of "Payout!" did not help matters in my opinion.

"For what it's worth, Listener, Cicero doesn't know about the bets regarding him," Siltal reassured me. "He only knew about the ones for you specifically." It wasn't comforting really, but at least I didn't have to worry if he was going to intentionally wreak havoc.

"Why can't you just have fun? Afraid I'll find comfort with another tonight?" I teased.

Cicero sniffed, "Cicero doesn't care." He glanced at me. "Hecate really doesn't expect for Cicero to spend the night with a priestess?"

"Of course not. Have I ever managed to make you do anything you didn't want to do?" I asked. I patted the water next to me indicating Cicero should sit next to me. He slid into the water and leaned against me smiling again. "Look, even Nazir is having fun."

The Redguard was dancing with three priestesses who were wearing nothing but their bottom smallclothes. "I can worship with as many as I want?" he called over to me.

"Take all you want, but use all that you take," I said, holding up a wine glass. The Redguard laughed heartily before leaving with the three women. I laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Cicero is on duty," Cicero said lowly. "Cicero is always on duty."

"Not always," I reminded him. I offered him my half full cup of wine. "You've taken breaks before."

Cicero took the cup and fiddled with it. I could see the conflict warring on his face as he thought. Finally, he sighed and handed the cup back to me. "Cicero is on duty," he said simply.

"That sort of sentiment doesn't help a girl's self-esteem," I jokingly reprimanded. "How am I supposed to feel knowing every time you lay with me is just your job?"

"You know that's not true!" Cicero insisted. "You know how I feel!"

"You cannot have it both ways, my dear," I said twirling the silver and amethyst ring he had given me. "You cannot be only Keeper and jester and treat me as a man does a woman."

"Why not?" Cicero whined. "Cicero Keeps his Listener happy just like he does Mother." I gave him a look of disgust. "Well, not the same way, but Cicero does Keep!"

"It doesn't make me happy to be thought of as just a duty," I said slowly. I felt flushed as I spoke whether from the wine, hot water, or frustration I'm not sure. "I want you to want me as if I was just a woman."

Cicero glared darkly at me before sinking low enough in the water only the top part of his face was not submerged much like a crocodile. He despised whenever I brought up any topic that would be construed as him abandoning his duties to the Night Mother. I never saw my suggestions that way; I felt what I wanted and what he wanted were not mutually exclusive. The problem was Cicero _needed_ to be the Keeper like most people needed to breathe and anything that changed his role to his beloved Mother was unacceptable.

I sighed and closed my eyes as I leaned back against the side of the pool to try to relax again. Maybe I should forget about tonight altogether. It had been a stupid idea anyway. Before I could continue that train of thought, I felt a stream of water hit me in the face.

I opened my eyes to see that Cicero had cupped his hands along the surface of the water and by squeezing them quickly he was squirting me in the face. "That is so childish," I sneered.

"Says the Listener," Cicero grinned wickedly as he casually slapped my wine glass out of my hand so it fell into the pool, "when she cannot even _hold_ her liquor. Ha, ha, ha!"

"At least," I responded as I picked up the glass and slung the water it had collected into Cicero's face, "I'm not _wet behind the ears_!"

"Let me _applaud_ your efforts!" Cicero retorted as he slapped the surface of the water with both of his palms flattened so a wave splashed me in the face.

"I'd rather _hand_ it to you!" I yelled as I cupped my own hands and threw water back at him.

"Please! All the _glory_ should go to the great and powerful Listener!" Cicero said as he gestured. A bench flipped up from his telekinesis spell and was held under the waterfall. It caused the water to flow over me instead of its normal pattern. I was completely drenched and almost drowned from the force of the water. As I sputtered, Cicero laughed madly.

"Not if I have anything to _say_ about it," I countered when I could. I took a deep breath and ducked under the surface of the water. Once submerged, I Shouted, "**FUS RO DAH!**" causing the water in the pool to fly everywhere. When I stood again, the level of the pool was only knee high. I was cackling almost as madly as the Keeper as I straightened.

Dripping with water, Cicero closed the distance between us and hugged me tightly with his hands firmly on the middle of my back. "You are so much trouble," he growled playfully, "but I do love you. As a man loves a woman if that is any consolation." He kissed me passionately making my knees weak.

"I know who I want to spend the night with," I whispered breathlessly.

"Who? The bubbly blonde? The ditzy redhead?" Cicero teased as his hands played across my back.

"No, I want to spend the night with you," I said. "Although I suppose that might qualify as the ditzy redhead." Cicero snorted in amusement against my ear. "Will you go back to Vlindrel Hall and wait for me? You can make it as romantic as you want with flowers and candles."

"Hm, Cicero supposes he'll find some way to keep his hands full," the jester laughed as he backed away from me. I felt a sudden breeze across my chest before I realized that he was dangling my bra band in his hands. That bastard had untied it while kissing me!

I shrieked in embarrassment as I hurriedly crossed my arms to try to hide my immodesty. I could hear a splash of water and looked over to see Aventus floating face down in the larger pool. Apparently he had seen me and passed out from the shock.

I started to yell at Cicero and stopped when I saw Eiruki creeping behind him. The Nord placed one finger over her lips and winked at me. I smirked as Cicero didn't notice her deft fingers loosen his small clothes until it was too late.

"I got them!" the normally quiet Nord shrieked as she held Cicero's underwear above her head. The jester squawked in surprise as Eiruki tore away with the last of his dignity. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was never dull with the Keeper around.

Several siblings looked at Siltal expectantly. The High Elf shook her head, "No payout. Doesn't count."

* * *

**Middas 14 First Seed 208 4E 11:30 PM**

My breath puffed out before me as I ascended to Vlindrel Hall. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest and my face felt warm from nervousness, but the rest of me was freezing from the bitter cold. Spring wouldn't be here for another two weeks and we were high up in the mountains of the Reach. The thin sandals I was wearing offered almost no protection against the cold or hard stone path, but I didn't want to ruin the lovely painting the priestesses had done on my nails.

I felt really good. The last two hours had been spent with some of the Dibella priestesses pampering me by washing and curling my hair before decorating it with dozens of red mountain roses, Cicero's favorite flower other than the nightshade he left for Mother's shrine. They had rubbed various oils into my hands, feet, and skin leaving it as soft as a baby's skin, something that was sure to make Cicero jealous that he had not been able to perform that duty. The soft satin and silk of my special dress whispered against my clean skin in a very sensual way. Around my neck hung a thin gold necklace with Cicero's ring as a pendant. I had no pockets and didn't want to risk losing the item after so much trouble. I was draped in a priestess' robe to give a little protection against the cold; my dress was much too thin to wear by itself.

I frowned in frustration when I pulled on the door of Vlindrel Hall and the handle didn't move. I know I told Cicero to be sure to leave it unlocked for me. He must have automatically locked it behind him. I knocked on the door hoping he would hear me. The house was longer than wide which was completely impractical for most residences, but was common on the mountain side of Markarth. I thought it was quaint and had a certain charm.

Thankfully, Cicero answered the door a few moments later. I was hoping from foot to foot shivering. The jester, back in his trademark motley, smirked and blocked the door by leaning with one arm on the doorway instead of letting me in. "Oh, what do we have here? A Dibella priestess for Cicero? Loyal Cicero was assured that he would have nothing to do with the holy whores."

"Please, let me in," I chattered. I tried to push past, but Cicero halted me.

"What are you up to?" he asked, his voice deep. Gods, that always sent a shiver down my spine.

"Why do you think I'm up to something?" I asked carefully. I wanted to wait until midnight to reveal my surprise and that was only minutes away. If I could just delay the jester for a few more minutes!

"Insisting on Cicero coming on this trip when I didn't want to isn't really your style," Cicero ticked the points off each finger. "You haven't yelled at me nearly as much as you normally do when I act out and you decided you wanted to spend the night with me instead of the very eager priestesses dying for your coin after coming all the way here? It's off and Cicero doesn't like when things are off and it's not his doing."

"You're switching tense a lot," I noted.

"You're changing the subject a lot," he countered.

"Please let me in!" I begged. "I cannot feel my toes." I wiggled them for emphasis. I swear they looked blue.

Cicero looked down and took in the satin ties running up my legs holding the sandals on my feet. He knew that I prefer heavy leather steel enforced boots and even wore them when I used my motley instead of the curly toed velvet boots. "Oh, ho, ho, ho!" he laughed. "Cicero understands now!"

The jester grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the house. He practically flew up the walk into the house as I trailed behind him. "Hecate hiding her form with a dowdy robe but has pretty, pretty sandals on. Clearly she has gotten a sexy outfit from the priestesses and wishes to seduce poor, horny Cicero with her naughty, naughty body."

"No! It's not like that!" I protested as we passed the main sitting area and into the kitchen. I was blushing profusely because I had actually considered that course of action. "What are you doing?"

"Cicero is just speeding things along," he laughed as he rounded into the bedroom. Cicero twisted so I spun and fell onto the bed. "Hecate doesn't like romance so Cicero will help her by unwrapping his gift." With a flick of his wrist, Cicero pulled out his ebony dagger and sliced away the robes I was wearing. The Keeper paused, his mouth and eyes wide open in surprise, "Oh."

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" I yelled sprawled on the bed. Part of me wanted to cross my arms to cover my body, but it was too late. Cicero had already seen the dress I had been saving for this occasion.

The dress was pure white with one shoulder strap over my left side. The top was bunched into a modest bodice with silver cords tightened around the top and bottom of my bust. The skirt flared loose but hung around my hips and flowed down to a little below my knees. In short, it was a Cyrodillic wedding dress intended to be worn on hot summer days in Cyrodiil and not frigid winter nights in Skyrim.

"A bride for Cicero," the Keeper sighed happily. He gently traced one hand down the side of the skirt almost hesitant to touch it.

"Yes," I answered although it hadn't really been a question. In the distance, a tower bell tolled the midnight hour. At least Cicero hadn't forced the surprise too early. There was still more to do. I swallowed nervously.

It was time.

* * *

**Turdas 15 First Seed 208 4E 12:00 AM**

"Cicero, there is something I want you to do," I said; my voice barely more than a whisper.

"Does it involve sneaking and stabbing? Oh please say yes!" Cicero teased with his usual response to my requests. His attention was completely on my gown as he fondled the material gently.

"Actually, it sort of does," I admitted. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Um, Turdas," Cicero answered absentmindedly as his hands continued to trail over the soft fabric of my dress.

"It's the fifteenth of First Seed and three years since you gave me my ring," I said as I pulled the golden chain to reveal the ring I had made for Cicero. His eyes lit up as he saw the gold band with the flawless ruby set into it. "I forged the ring myself."

It didn't usually come up, but I am an amazing blacksmith. It had been necessary to be able to carefully link all the fine dragon scales together for my trademark Dragonborn armor. When I was in the Imperial army, I was a blacksmith's apprentice and would help with simple repairs. Over time soldiers would bring in small bits of jewelry that needed repair like chain links or broken bands. Those little pieces of jewelry were all they had to remind them of loved ones waiting for them to come home alive.

The design was painfully simple allowing the viewer's eye to be drawn to the blood red ruby set in the middle. It was an exquisite piece for that alone, but Babette had enchanted the ring to enhance the wearer's stealth and swordplay. Most importantly of all was the inscription. I must have smelted the ring almost half a dozen times to get it done correctly.

I don't have fancy handwriting. At best it could be described at legible instead of elegant or even feminine. It was important to get the writing just right and I had agonized over how the inscription looked for weeks.

"What does it say?" Cicero asked as he gently took the ring from me to see the text better.

"It's my birth name," I said quietly as I fiddled with my hands. "You're the only person in all of Skyrim who knows it." I blushed furiously. It had been over twenty years since anyone called me by that name and it felt foreign even to me now. I was Hecate the Listener, not that girl from Cyrodiil running away from home.

"A ring and a secret!" Cicero chuckled, his eyes twinkling with merriment. The Fool of Hearts softly said the name as if to taste it. He twirled the ring so it reflected the candle light. "Oh, Listener, you do spoil sweet Cicero so!"

I reached out and took Cicero's left hand. I gently removed his glove before retrieving the ring. "Will you promise to wear this always?" I asked shyly.

"Until the day I die," Cicero swore.

"Not always?" I teased.

"No, you'll want it when I pass. I'm just giving you the ability to take it," Cicero said seriously. His amber eyes locked onto mine. "Something of poor Cicero's to keep close." Cicero kissed me, his cheeks feeling surprisingly cool against my flushed face.

"I….," I licked my lips nervously. This was going to be the hardest part, but if I was going to say the Binding Words, it would be now. "I….you."

"What was that, my Listener?" Cicero laughed. He wrapped his arms around me drawing me into a tight embrace.

"I" –cough-" you," I muttered.

"Still cannot say it?"

"I…," my face felt so hot I thought I would pass out, "… you!"

"I love you," Cicero provided for me.

"Ditto," I mumbled feeling relieved.

"Good enough, I suppose," Cicero laughed. "The real question is does this count? You were so insistent that it didn't before."

"Do you want it to count?" I asked. Cicero shrugged laughing at my discomfort. "If you do, I'll let you do whatever you want with me the rest of the night." I swallowed nervously at the thought I had just put myself completely at Cicero's mercy.

"Oh, Hecate," Cicero's grin was predatory, "Cicero is going to have soooo much fun!"

* * *

**Turdas 15 First Seed 208 4E 6:00 AM**

I awoke feeling sore all over. I had thought I had been prepared for any unknown strange kinks Cicero may have liked and had actually expected a few of them. The thing with the sweetroll had just been strange and I had been completely unprepared. I ran one finger over my inner thigh and licked the icing residue off.

The other side of the bed was empty. Where could Cicero have gone? The bell tower tolled six times indicating I had only slept about an hour and it was still dark outside. I slipped out of the bed wearing only a sleeping fur draped around my body to go look in the kitchen to find it empty. He wouldn't have gone down to the market this early, would he?

I was still so sleepy that it took me several moments to realize someone was knocking on the front door. I padded quietly to the front of the house on bare feet. The cold stone floor sent small shocks of cold up my heels as I opened the front door.

Outside, Cicero was standing with his back to me. The Fool was wearing only his loincloth and boots. He was staring out over the ledge of the mountain to the beautiful view of Markarth below. I could hear him muttering angrily under his breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I closed the door behind me.

"Listener, don't! Dammit!" Cicero cursed as he turned around and tried to grab the door handle. I watched as he rattled the handle but it didn't move.

"It's unlocked," I said slowly. "I made sure to check before I came out."

"The door automatically locks," Cicero explained, "Cicero didn't know either when he came outside for some fresh air."

"What are we going to do?" I asked as I hopped from foot to foot. The heat of the day was long gone and only the cold remained seeped into the stones.

"Do you have anything on you?" Cicero asked. I flashed open my fur blanket to reveal I had absolutely nothing on underneath. "Hm, nice, but not very useful." He plucked a hair clip that had been holding one of my roses from my hair. "Maybe this will do. Not likely."

"Gods, hurry. I'm freezing," I cried.

Just as Cicero knelt to try his luck at the lock, I saw the flicker of torch light. A Reach guard on patrol stopped and stared at the two of us in a very compromising position. Before I could explain what had happened, the guard yelled, "Halt! You're under arrest for your crimes against Skyrim! One account of lock picking and two accounts of public indecency!"

"I am not going to Cidhna Mine!" I said. "IISS SLEN NUS!" The ice form shout immediately froze the guard into place. I grabbed Cicero's hand and ran pulling the Fool along with me. As we fled, Cicero quickly pulled ahead since I couldn't run as fast on my bare feet.

The jester noticed that I was lagging and scooped me up into his arms. I flung my arms around Cicero's neck as he bolted down the steep stone steps. I prayed that he didn't have any missteps and send the two of us tumbling to our doom below.

Guards were appearing from hearing the first guard's shout before I froze him. Cicero took a hard left to avoid the group, but quickly ran into another squad. With the two groups of guards, we were trapped!

"Hold on!" I yelled. I leapt out of Cicero's arms and grabbed his hand tight. The two of us ran towards the edge of the cliff and as we jumped I Shouted, "**WULD NAH KEST!"** the whirlwind Shout. The extra force from my Shout gave us enough momentum to cross the chasm to the other side far away from the guards.

I turned to give a rude gesture and laugh at their impotence when I noticed my fur blanket fluttering to the chasm ground below. It had torn free during our leap. I looked down and saw that I was completely naked. I shrieked in embarrassment and tried to cover myself, but it was too late. Guards were openly ogling me and a few gave appreciative catcalls.

Cicero grabbed me up again and took off running towards the gates. "Honestly, Listener, there is a time and place for such things!" he scolded with a laugh.

* * *

**Turdas 15 First Seed 208 4E 6:30 AM**

Cicero and I were crouched down in a bed of hay in the Markarth dog stables. A few hounds and come over to sniff curiously at us, but after I used a few well- placed Kyne's peace Shouts at them, they left us alone. At least the stable and hay were giving a little bit of warmth because I was still completely bare. Even with Cicero's added warmth pressed against me, I was freezing.

The sky was starting to lighten to predawn gray. Soon it would be proper dawn and I wasn't sure how we were going to get out of this without being arrested. I hoped if we could wait a few minutes longer, the guards would give up and we could figure out a way to sneak to the temple of Dibella. Once there I should be able to get my copy of the key to Vlindrel Hall and there should be extra clothes we could borrow. In the meantime, the waiting would be the worst part.

"What are you doing?" I asked Cicero who was nuzzling my neck amorously.

"Listener did say Cicero could do whatever he wanted to her," the jester reminded me as his hands ran over my body. "Besides, it's a great way to stay warm."

"The dogs are watching us," I said nervously looking at the hounds who were sitting there with their tongues almost lecherously hanging out.

"Let them," Cicero said as he kissed me. He chuckled, "What do you think the odds were we would have to run naked through Markarth to avoid being arrested for the Mines?"

"Pretty good," I laughed as I accepted Cicero's advances. As I laid back in the hay, I whispered, "Payout!"

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for this last bit taking so long. I knew what I wanted to do, but the words just wouldn't come. Plus real life actually kept me too busy and fuzzy brained to write. I'm really excited (and a little nervous) for this chapter to be done. I originally had planned for there to be more detailed sex in this chapter, but after making the list of bets, I realized I *had* to include Cicero fulfilling most or all of the ones listed. This was just too hilarious to pass up and the end result is what we have hear.**

**The "I...you" part was inspired by the movie - Tales From the Crypt Demon Knight. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it!  
**

**Running hot water inspired by Metrophor. Go check her out!  
**


	6. God Bless the Child

**A/N: The following story contains ideologically sensitive material. It is of a very dark nature and may not be for all readers. If you feel you may be offended by themes like rape and incest, please feel free to skip this chapter as it is a standalone and will not affect your ability to enjoy future chapters. **

**Viewer discretion is advised.**

**Middas 19 Hearth Fire 208 4E 3:00 AM**

"Cicero, have you ever wanted children?"

We were waiting outside the house of Erikur, a thane of Haafingar, in Solitude watching the city guards' patrol waiting for a pattern to emerge. It was a beautiful night with no clouds in the sky and the two moons shining brightly across the land. The perfect night for lovers, but it was a terrible night for assassins. Cicero and I had been waiting for hours and I was getting restless. I hoped no one would pass close enough to hear us talk if we kept our voices low.

"No," the Keeper shook his head, "Cicero has never wanted children. Cicero has his siblings and Mother. That is all the family Cicero could ever desire. Why would Cicero want a crying, soiling thing?"

"Some of the initiates seem to think you'd be a really good father," I said shrugging. "Because you're so good taking care of the Night Mother, I suppose."

"Mother is nothing like a baby," Cicero frowned. "It's insulting to even imply as much. Mother is perfectly preserved and quiet, oh so very, terribly quiet. A baby is constantly leaking from one orifice or another and crying, crying, crying." Cicero paused and looked at me. "The Listener isn't wanting children, is she?"

"No, no!" I shook my head roughly. "I never want children."

"Listener said she never wanted this either," Cicero said gently as he placed his left hand over mine so our rings were touching. "Maybe the Listener has decided she wants to be a Mother of her own." His tone was joking, but I could hear the underlying threat. The first Tenet – Don't disrespect the Night Mother or suffer the wrath of Sithis. There could be only one mother in this family.

"Trust me, I still don't want children," I smiled shyly. "I've always been more afraid you'd one day come to me with lust in those amber eyes of yours ready to convince me that I did though."

"Oh, ho, ho, ho," Cicero chuckled, "Cicero understands that the best part of children is making them." He leaned forward and kissed the hollow of my neck. "The Listener has no worries there. Sweet Cicero wants her all for himself. If the Listener doesn't desire screaming, leaking children, then why ask Cicero if he did?"

"It's our current contract," I admitted. "It's gotten my mind on such matters."

Cicero held his hand up and gestured. The path was finally clear of guards. The two of us scurried across the road and clung to the few shadows as we pressed against the wall. We quietly walked along the side until we found a small door that would lead into the servant's quarters. I produced the iron key our client had given me to unlock the door and we quickly darted inside before the patrol could come back.

Sleeping figures stirred restlessly as the Keeper and I ghosted across their sleeping quarters. One maid sighed as she rolled from her back to her side. Thankfully, she didn't wake. I breathed a sigh of relief after we had moved into the corridor closing the thick wooden door behind us.

"What about Aventus?" I asked quiet as we walked down the dark hallway.

"What about Aventus?" Cicero said stiffly. The two men were still bitter rivals over my affection despite my clear statements of preferring Cicero.

"The two of you were close once," I said carefully. "I remember when Aventus joined us that you were like a father to him. And he was just a child then."

"Hmph, Aventus was never a child," Cicero sniffed, "at least as long as he's been with us. His body wasn't grown, but Aretino was an assassin. If he hadn't been, he wouldn't have killed Rolff and could not be one of us. Aventus has never needed an adult to take care of him. Not once did the boy request help with making sure he was fed, clothed, or bathed. May as well insist that Babette is a child when she is our unchild."

I nodded as I thought back to when Aventus became our littlest brother. It was true that he never asked for help or care. Although I had occasionally read to the boy or tucked him into bed, Aventus never asked me to specifically do those things. I had offered out of some sense of responsibility to the boy, but would I have felt resentment if he had actually asked instead of patiently waiting for me to remember him after weeks of being preoccupied with my own needs first?

"Cicero is happy to be on contract with Hecate," the jester said happily doing a silent jig. "Keeper and Listener on the hunt!"

I rarely took missions any more. As the Listener, my responsibility was to bear the words of the Night Mother. We had plenty of siblings now who could wield their blades in the name of Sithis. It would be foolish to risk the only person who could hear the Night Mother on a contract. Siblings could be replaced much more easily, as cold as that sounded, but a blade was a blade.

Mother had never deigned to tell me why she had waited so long to pick me as her voice. We still had no idea if there was a certain quality that Mother needed for her Listener or if she had withheld her favor because she was angry with her children for some reason. If I died would the Brotherhood flounder again for another decade before Mother found another Listener or would she replace me immediately?

Thus when I did take a contract, I only chose what I considered the most important petitions. There were some calls for vengeance that I felt required the best of the Brotherhood and could not be left in the hands of just any assassin.

Our petitioner was Gisli, the owner of the general store Bits and Pieces and Erikur's sister. I remembered the first time I met the Nord in Solitude. Her first words had been, "I'm Gisli, but you can call me Erikur's sister. Everyone else does!" I had been taken aback by the venom in her tone.

Maybe Gisli had plenty of reason for that bitterness. Her older brother Erikur was handsome, rich, and a thane of Jarl Elisif who had very strong connections with the Thalmor Embassy. Compared to being a mere business owner, it appeared that Erikur had everything in the world. If that had been the only problem then we wouldn't be here right now. There was something darker between those siblings.

Erikur was a notorious womanizer. During one Thalmor Embassy party, he insisted on harassing a Bosmeri barmaid for physical attention. When the woman rightly refused him, he made a huge fuss and she was condemned to an interrogation room. It was also telling that his own wife, Bryling, did not live in the same house as he. Instead she had her own residence in Solitude where she lived with her own housecarl.

Until recently, Gisli had lived in her brother's home. About a year and a half ago, Erikur returned drunk from a New Life Day party and forced himself on his sister. When Gisli found that she had become pregnant from the ordeal, she fled to Bryling for help. Bryling took her in and in the following months Gisli gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Erikur found out and demanded that he be given the child to raise as his own. When Gisli had refused, Erikur threatened to use his elven connections to ruin her business and he would spread rumors of Bryling being closer to her housecarl than was strictly professional. Despite the fact he had a reputation as a playboy; it was still socially seen as unacceptable for a married woman to tarry with another man. Bryling would have to worry about losing her position as thane if such a rumor was started. Completely unfair, but such is the way of politics. Men could enjoy certain privileges that if a woman attempted she would be labeled a whore.

Under the pressure of Erikur's blackmail, Gisli surrendered the boy to him. Erikur was pleased as pie. He had everything he could ever want now. Before he had been childless and now he was the father of a healthy baby boy. Skyrim is a harsh climate and often young babes died from the bitter cold or other complications. It was common practice to not name a child until one year after its birth, typically called their Naming Day. Erikur had ignored tradition, certain of his child's health, and named the boy Ull, which meant glory.

The loss of her child after the shame of rape by her own brother and the threat of further losing face had been too much for Gisli. The Nords are a proud people whose honor means everything, even those who support the Empire. She had turned to the Black Sacrament to find vengeance. The Night Mother had heard her plea and sent one of her own metaphorical children to extract unholy justice.

"We're here," Cicero whispered in my ear. We had quietly ascended the three story building to the top level with no difficulty. It was late enough at night everyone was asleep, even Erikur's housecarl. What did they have to fear? They were in the capital of Skyrim surrounded by the Imperial army and curried the favor of the Aldmeri Dominion.

Cicero gently turned the handle of the ornate door and silently pushed it open. Its well-oiled hinges didn't make a sound as we entered. The sleeping chamber was richly decorated as would be expected of someone of Erikur's disposition. I tiptoed to the center of the room and placed my hands on the frame of the bed and looked down at our victim.

I have killed innocents in the name of the Night Mother. Despite my rationalizations of maybe having delivered a backhanded mercy, I was haunted by Vittoria Vici's face when I shot her down on her wedding day. I remembered every line of Gaius Maro's face when I stabbed him in the heart. Finally, noble Emperor Titus Mede II's eyes as he silently begged me not for his life but vengeance against the man who had ordered his death before I slit his throat. I had never found anything about their lives that made me think they deserved the services of the Dark Brotherhood.

"You cannot do it, can you?" Cicero asked as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I looked down and saw that my hands were shaking violently. I shook my head trying to not cry.

Ask me to kill a monster in a man's form and I could do so without any reservation. Bandits, vampires, pirates, blackmailers, rapists, and murderers I would send to Sithis without hesitation. Maybe even with a bit of glee. Soldiers and thieves didn't even particularly bother me. I enjoyed killing or I would never have considered joining the Brotherhood. The feel of hot blood on my hands feeds a hunger my dragon soul craves, but the human half of my soul needed to feel I was performing some sort of justice.

How could I feel that way when I was looking into a crib at the sleeping form of our victim—a baby about to celebrate his Naming Day in a few days? Ull stretched in his sleep and rolled over onto his back. His small mouth yawned loudly as he clenched chubby fists. He was a beautiful child with a head of curly brown hair and ruddy red cheeks.

Many women would have sought the death of their brother after what Erikur had done to his sister. Gisli was shrewd and realized that if Erikur died suddenly it would still be revealed that Ull was a child of incest and rape. Erikur would have contingency plans in case one of his many enemies had decided to remove him from the courts. The blackmail would still be released and Gisli and Bryling would be ruined. The Civil War was winding down, but it still lingered because of Lydia claiming leadership after Ulfric had died; two women could not afford to live on their own safely on under such conditions.

At the same time, Gisli could not bear the thought of her child being raised to become the same type of man her brother was. If she could not have Ull, then neither would Erikur. It was exactly the type of prayer that would draw Mother's attention. Hadn't she personally sacrificed her five children to their Dread Father Sithis to garner his favor?

"Cicero will do the deed," the Keeper said gently. He kissed my forehead just like how he did with the Night Mother when he finished her weekly oiling.

"Thank you," I whispered. I brushed a butterfly kiss against Cicero's lips. When the Keeper reached for his blade, I stopped him. "Don't forget the bonus."

Gisli had requested that the death look natural. If it had been obvious that Ull had been murdered then nothing would stop Erikur from finding out who had ordered the kill. If the baby mysteriously stopped breathing in the night… well, such things happened all the time. And surely it would be taken as a sign from the gods punishing him for his arrogance for naming the child before his Naming Day.

I wanted to step away and even turn my back as Cicero reached for a small, dainty embroidered pillow. I forced myself to watch as he pressed it over the baby's face. The infant struggled, but only weakly. I had chosen this assignment, and even though I had allowed Cicero the "honor" of performing the task, I would see it through to the end because I believe firmly in not asking someone to do something I wouldn't do personally. I crossed my arms to try to reduce how much my body was shaking. It took everything in me to not sob as tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Don't cry, sweet Listener," Cicero said as he smiled innocently at me. The form under his hands was still. "It's okay. Mother loves children."

* * *

**A/N: I realize that an infant as a target for a Dark Brotherhood mission is not going to be a popular choice. One thing I feel a lot of people do is forget that at their heart, the Dark Brotherhood is an assassin's guild. They kill people for money. Some kill for religious beliefs and others kill because they have a dark passenger that needs to be sated, but they kill. And they kill who the Night Mother indicates they should kill. This was the same woman who killed her own children as a sacrifice to her Dread Lord. **

**I truly hope this chapter didn't offend anyone to the point of not reading future stories. Sometimes a dark tale needs to be told just as much as a funny or happy story and this was one of them. Please feel free to pm me with any thoughts and concerns or leave a review.**


	7. The Binding Words

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who left a review for the last chapter. I'm glad to see my beta reader had overworried.**

* * *

I opened my eyes to the darkness of my room. For a moment I couldn't remember what year it was much less what day. I snuggled deeper into my pillows, my right arm tucked underneath my head. I could feel the embrace of a hand around my waist. I smiled and spooned closer into the hug.

"Cicero?"

"Yes, my Listener?"

"I dreamed you died," I said softly. I could feel the remains of tears on my face from the terrible dream where my Fool had passed into the Void to leave me alone in the world.

"I did die, remember?" Cicero whispered in my ear. I rolled over and looked at the slightly glowing blue figure of my Keeper. No, Cicero was not my Keeper any more, but my spectral assassin instead.

"Oh, right," I barely managed to say through the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry I fell asleep before dismissing you. I forgot again."

"I do not mind," Cicero smiled gently. "I used to watch you sleep all the time when I was alive. Do you have any further need of me? If not, I would return to the Void for a while."

_Always. I always need you_, I wanted to say. "No, you are dismissed. I'll get ready for the day and call you back later."

"Many thanks, my Listener," Cicero said solemnly as he bowed. His form faded to nothing back to the Void so he could report to the Night Mother and see if she personally needed him for anything.

Once he was gone, I laid back onto the bed and threw my arm over my eyes. My head pounded from holding in tears that threatened to flood down my face. I could tell it was going to be a bad day for me. Waking from the dream of Cicero's death and being forced to deal with it was always a bad day. I often just stayed in my room all day doing nothing but staring at the ceiling weeping uncontrollably.

Not today, I promised myself. I rolled out of the bed and lit a candle. I went to the dresser and pulled out some fresh clothes. I would take a trip out. Get some fresh air and ride under the blue sky again; anything to be away from Sanctuary for a while.

* * *

**Morndas 15 Sun's Height 230 4E 9:00 AM**

"Siltal, I'm going to take a trip to High Hrothgar," I told the High Elf Speaker. I had a backpack full of warm furs to protect against the cold thrown over one shoulder and my bow on the other. My plain leather armor creaked as I settled my weapon on the table so I could grab some food for my travels and a bite of breakfast.

"Are there any new contracts from the Night Mother before you go?" she asked. Her golden eyes looked me over as I moved around the table grabbing bread and cheese. The necromancer was usually solemn, but today she had a small smile on her face. It often fell to her to check on me when I had not emerged from either my room or the Night Mother's crypt for days, so any time I was being active was a positive sign for her.

I don't remember much of the first year after Cicero died. Vague memories of sitting in front of the Night Mother's coffin or crouching in front of Cicero's corpse where it had been interred protectively near his Matron. I did little more than stare into the Void lost in my own sorrow and feelings of helplessness. I had never lost anyone close to me before mostly because I didn't allow people to get close. I was supposed to be able to defeat anything in my path. I had defeated Alduin World-Eater and stopped him from destroying realty, so why couldn't I have stopped old age from taking my Cicero?

"No, Mother has nothing in reserve. I'll probably be gone a few weeks, hopefully no more than a month if everything goes well," I said around a mouthful of grapes.

The seven thousand step journey up the mountain was never quickly done. I could have summoned Odahviing to fly me up in mere minutes, but I wanted the journey more than the destination. It had been years since I had last been up to the Greybeard monastery and I hoped that Paarthurnax had finally returned. Thirty years and as far as I knew, the old dragon was still out in the world preaching the Way of the Voice.

Of the original Greybeards I had known, only Arngeir still lived. Not surprising since they were old when I met them. Arngeir had succumbed to the bane of the Voice decades ago and rarely spoke more than my title when I visited. The new spokesperson of the Greybeards didn't care for me at all and would no doubt give me hassle when I arrived, but that was her problem, not mine.

"Obviously you're in charge while I'm gone," I said as Siltal handed me a small healer's kit. I nodded my thanks before cramming it into my backpack. It was common practice to take bandages and sewing kit in case one was attacked by bandits or worse. Gods knew I still had to kill the occasional dragon that didn't have enough sense to just pass me by when they spotted me. I started up the stairs to the Black Door. "Standard procedure and all that."

"Of course, Listener," Siltal said. "Kill well and often."

"Kill well and often," I said. I summoned Shadowmere and mounted her quickly. Without a backward glance, I rode southeast towards my goal.

* * *

**Middas 17 Sun's Height 230 4E 1:00 PM**

"High Hrothgar? Really? When were you going to summon me again?" Cicero scowled. His blue spectral form sat sidesaddle behind me on Shadowmere as we started beginning the journey at the base of the Throat of the World, Tamriel's tallest mountain.

I had stopped at Ivarstead to gather supplies for the Greybeards. I remembered there was once a kind Nord who would occasionally make the trip up the mountain to leave food and other necessities for the monks at the base of the stairs. He never met them or spoke to them, but without fail he would travel the seven thousand steps to leave food for them without expecting pay or thanks. I couldn't recall his name now; he had died a long time ago for he had been an older man when I met him, but his generosity never faded from my memory. Now whenever I had a chance to visit, I did the same thing partly because the Greybeards had been my friends and partly in that man's memory.

"I don't recalling summoning you now, yet here you are," I said sarcastically as Shadowmere cantered up the first set of steps.

"Good thing too," Cicero said. It wasn't too cold yet being at the base of the mountain and the height of summer, but snow was already on the ground here. I had wrapped my first layer of furs about me, but Cicero showed no signs of feeling the cold. "I wonder sometimes if you're trying to get killed. High Hrothgar holds the only person in Tamriel who holds any threat to you and away you go!"

"Didn't you once scold me for trying to learn something from pacifists?" I retorted recalling when Cicero had come to High Hrothgar to retrieve me from my self-exile after I had lost my temper and beaten him savagely.

"That was different. That was when it was only old men who truly believed in their foolish philosophy," Cicero said. "Things change. Everything changes. No matter how hard you try to hold on, time flows like sand in your hands and nothing stands still. Surely I taught you at least that much in our time together."

There had been many changes when the Night Mother bequeathed her "gift" to me of a spectral assassin as my personal bodyguard. The obvious had been that Cicero was completely blue and mostly incorporeal now. He could be solid enough for a fight and had killed his fair share of my opponents when I felt like going on a mission for Solitude, but usually his form would simply distort if I happened to touch him like wisps of fog in the early morning.

Cicero was also more solemn now. He didn't dance or sing any more. And in the two years he had been back I had not heard any hint of laughter from my fool except his first words to me"Let's kill someone." He was still, too still. Not being alive allowed Cicero to be the perfect assassin in many ways since he didn't need to worry about breathing, eating, sleeping or any other mortal needs.

It was odd for him to not be constantly worrying about the Night Mother's needs. No thoughts of picking flowers or whether he had done an acceptable job of oiling the corpse. No longer did he fret over his beloved Mother for now Cicero would return to the Void to personally inquire her desires and hear her blessed words for himself instead of relying on me.

Worst of all, he was sane. A terrible complaint to be fair, but it was there all the same. Cicero no longer spoke in third person or morbid couplets. He argued with me now, insistent that I was wrong and I should reconsider my actions. This was the man Garnag remembered as Chickpea and not my Cicero. I wondered if I had loved the jester and not the assassin, and it bothered me.

Maybe that's why I mourned Cicero's death so much three years after it had happened. Surely I should have started healing more, but every time I made progress there was Cicero reminding me silently how much I had not known of who he was before he came to Skyrim.

Not that I ever shared who I was before Skyrim. I had never talked about my life in Bravil other than I had lived there as a girl. Once I had become of age, I had grabbed my bow and never looked back.

"If she tries anything, I'll slit her throat regardless of what you wish," Cicero promised.

"You do that and you had better consider a Tenet broken," I snapped back. "I'm still your superior and I want no violence while I'm in High Hrothgar. If I have to, I'll leave first." I turned to face Cicero. "In fact, I would prefer if you weren't there when I arrived."

"As you wish, oh great and powerful Listener," Cicero snarled. "I'll return when you've had your fill of nostalgia." One second he was there, the next gone.

I growled in frustration before hunching over Shadowmere and encouraging her to run up the snow covered steps. The demon horse snorted but followed my command. I didn't fear that she might slip on the slick stone and cause serious injury to either of us. Shadowmere had never had a misstep in all the time she's been mine and I trusted her.

Maybe I was being reckless; it wouldn't be the first time. All my life I have been relatively fearless. I wasn't scared of bandits, spiders, blood, walking undead or any of the many things normal people were horrified by. As I grew older and more powerful, I was less and less scared of anything. What did I have to fear? I was the Dragonborn and the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, guaranteed to live a long time and trained to kill people before they could kill me.

It was very likely that I was submitting to the assassin's curse of overconfidence. We were death incarnate delivering oblivion to those who had drawn the attention of the Night Mother answering the Black Sacrament. Time and time again an assassin must break into places with impossible security, kill their target, and escape without dying. You do it often enough and you think nothing can touch you. Many an assassin died still believing that after getting a cold or after a random bandit managed to slit their throat. So sad, yet so funny.

I could have brought an initiate along, someone to watch my back as I slept or to flank with during a fight. But I had enjoyed the quiet journey of sleeping under the night sky, preparing simple meals, and just having my thoughts on the scenery as I traveled. It had been peaceful and calming. Until Cicero had turned up again.

There were tender moments like the other day when I woke and he was there holding me, but more often than not Cicero was merely a silent observer as I tried to live normally again. When we did talk it was more like our last conversation where he called me a fool in so many words and I angrily dismissed him.

Fighting was nothing new between Cicero and me. Often I thought that was why we were able to work as a couple. I would get angry or frustrated at something, yell at him, he would retort sarcastically, I would push him, he would push back, and we'd tumble into the bed together. There had always been the kisses, hugs, and dancing to leech the anger away. Now there was just the anger.

* * *

**Loredas 20 Sun's Height 230 3:00 PM**

"Well, aren't you the prettiest damn Greybeard I ever saw," I said grinning widely. I had arrived to High Hrothgar to find the spokeswoman of the Greybeards waiting for me at the entrance. I was still astride Shadowmere near the place where pilgrims left offerings for the monks.

"That wasn't funny the first time and it's not funny now," the older looking woman growled as she pulled down her hood. Lydia shook her shoulder length hair, all steel gray now, free of the confines of the hood. Although she had been a Greybeard for fifteen years, Lydia still wore her warrior's braid. Typical Nord sentiment of "never forgive, never forget." The lines on her face gave her a permanent frown exaggerated by the scar Cicero had left on one side of her mouth the last time those two had crossed blades. "You are not welcome here, assassin."

"Lydia, please," I sighed. "After all that mediation and contemplation, you still haven't found it in your heart to forgive me?" I held up the bag full of food I had purchased in Ivarstead. "I brought a peace offering."

"I want nothing you have to offer," Lydia sneered. "Where is your pet clown?"

"Cicero," I paused. It was still hard to say even now. "He died."

"Good," Lydia smiled bitterly. "I'll be sure to burn an offering to Talos for finally answering my prayers. I hope it was long and painful."

Although I had been standing about thirty feet away down a flight of stairs, I was suddenly at Lydia's throat holding my Blade of Woe against her neck. Lydia had fallen backwards and I was straddling her waist. I had to have Shouted the whirlwind sprint, but I didn't remember the words coming out of my mouth.

"I know you hated him, but Cicero was my dearest friend, so if I were you I would watch my tongue while it was still in my mouth. Understood?" A drop of blood beaded on the tip of my blade as Lydia slowly and carefully nodded her consent. It was only with the barest of restraint that I was able to sheath my dagger. "I'm going to visit Arngeir now."

I stalked away from the fallen form of my former friend. I could feel Lydia's glare on my back as I left. Part of me had hoped she would finally find forgiveness when I told her Cicero died. That she would comfort me as she once had as my housecarl.

After I had killed Ulfric, Lydia had taken the leadership of the Stormcloak Rebellion. With her reputation as the Dragonborn, Ulfric's legacy, and all the claimed territory the Stormcloaks had accumulated, the rebels could have still won the civil war if it had not been for my deal with Elisif the Fair. The widow of King Torygg would summon the Brotherhood to kill strategic opponents keeping the rebellion without solid leadership. I often went when Elisif was our contact because I knew she would only ask to kill the most foul politicians and soldiers. It comforted me to fulfill my role as assassin without staining my hands further with the blood of the innocent.

The only reason Elisif never targeted Lydia was I had begged for her to spare the former housecarl. I convinced her that Lydia was as much of a victim of the war as she was a general. Ulfric had used his superior social manipulation skills to make Lydia into his personal puppet and she shouldn't pay the price with her life. Elisif had agreed and spared the Nord despite hating her for falsely claiming the Dragonborn title.

Losing the war, Ulfric, and her thane had been too much for Lydia. She retired more or less quietly to High Hrothgar to study the Way of the Voice after the peace treaty for Skyrim was signed. I didn't know how much of the thu'um Lydia had mastered over the years, but she had surely progressed further than the others if she had been able to create the unrelenting force shout while still on the battlefield years before.

Once I was inside the monastery, I found one of the other Greybeards, a younger man in his forties, and gave him the supplies I had brought. He nodded his thanks to me before leaving to put them away. I went to the private rooms of the Greybeards and found Arngeir in his room resting on his bed.

The last time I had been here had been about five years before. Even then Arngeir had looked ancient and did little more than nap by the fire in a comfortable chair. Now he was cocooned in many furs in an attempt to keep the cold out and keep what little warmth his body could create in. The elder should have been moved somewhere warmer, I thought. Most of Skyrim was cold, but the Throat of the World was the worst for it never knew summer. In the middle of the hottest month of the year, it was so bitterly cold I was wearing two layers of the heaviest furs I could find. I had no idea how Arngeir stood it.

I knelt by his bed and took his hand. The skin was practically translucent and I could make out individual veins. "Hello, old friend," I said softly.

Filmy blue eyes slowly turned towards me. "_Dovahkiin,"_ the Greybeard whispered. The room still shook from his voice. The power of the thu'um washed over me, not harming me in the slightest. I was stronger in the Voice than he now and only words spoken with ill intent had any chance of hurting me.

"I won't trouble you much from your rest, Arngeir," I said. "Is Paarthurnax here?" I sighed when Arngeir shook his head. Since the Greybeards channeled the thu'um whenever they talked, it took a great effort for even the simplest of words. "Do you know if he will return soon?" Another negative shake. "Thank you." I leaned forward and kissed the man on his forehead. I doubted I would see him alive the next time I returned.

I quietly left the room and found Lydia waiting for me. "You could have just as easily asked me," she scolded, "instead of bothering that man during his final days."

"He's much nicer than you," I said simply as I walked past her. "Besides, I would like to think someone here likes seeing me."

"There are days I curse you finding that stranded wagon," Lydia said sadly. I turned and saw sorrow on her face instead of anger for the first time in what felt like forever. "I wish you had never met that jester."

"I don't," I said, but it was a lie. Every morning I woke to an empty bed I briefly cursed how Cicero had stolen my heart as easily as any thief in Riften could steal a coin purse from an unsuspecting victim. "Please tell Paarthurnax, if he ever returns, that I look for his council. I will take my leave." I really had no idea what I would ask the ancient dragon, but surely he would understand better than anyone the pain of living long after the rest of your loved ones had gone into Oblivion.

I felt Lydia's hand on my shoulder. It clenched for a moment, giving silent strength before falling away. It was the most she could allow herself to show sympathy to me. We were friends for a short time and enemies much longer. If I could turn back the clock and do better by the Nord, I would—but I can't and must make do with what we have. I nodded my thanks before going back outside to find Shadowmere. Maybe when I returned some time in the future, five or ten years from now, Lydia would be ready to speak to me and we could finally make amends.

* * *

**Tirdas 23 Sun's Height 230 10:00 PM**

"So, how did it go?" Cicero asked tauntingly. I had camped a few hours outside of Ivarstead for the night when my spectral assassin had returned as he promised he would.

"As terrible as you could have wished," I responded, "not that I doubt you weren't watching from the Void the whole time laughing."

"Hm, at least half of that is right," Cicero smirked as he leaned against me. His cold lips were against my ear. "The Dread Father doesn't tolerate laughter in his court."

"Not even from his jester?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't hold that particular honor," Cicero said. "The jester, my old friend, keeps Father entertained when he wishes."

"Your old contract?" I asked. I stopped stroking my campfire so I could look at Cicero properly. "He's in the Void too?"

"Of course! I did send his soul there personally," Cicero said disdainfully.

"Then why do you still wear that?" I asked gesturing to the jester's garb Cicero wore.

"It is how you remember me," he shrugged. "I suppose I could make my form look like this," he wavered to a different style of shrouded armor I wasn't familiar with, probably the Cyrodiil version, "or this," and he changed to his Keeper's robes. "What do you prefer?"

"It doesn't matter to me," I said stiffly.

"But it does matter to you," Cicero said. He crouched uncomfortably close to me back in his jester's motley. "I can tell. We are bound together, you and I." Cicero reached out and pulled on the golden chain I wore around my neck. Dangling from it was the ruby and gold ring I had given him in exchange for the silver and amethyst one he had placed on my finger before the Night Mother, more or less marrying us before his goddess.

"Don't touch me!" I snapped jerking away. When I saw Cicero holding his ring, I remembered how he said he would wear it until the day he died because I would want it when he was gone. The memory was so sharp and painful that I thought I would start to cry and I couldn't bear the thought of Cicero watching me weep over his passing.

I moved to unroll my sleeping furs partly to put some space between the ghost and me and partly to finish settling down for the night. Now that I wasn't high in the mountains, it was pleasant enough to sleep outside without much protection. The summer wind felt good after the cold touch of the Keeper.

"My, my, my, you are so cranky anymore," Cicero said sarcastically. "I know what your problem is. You need to get laid."

"Shut up!" I yelled. I turned and Cicero was already next to me, smiling cruelly. Before I could say anything else, he pushed me to the ground so I fell onto my bedroll.

"It's true," he continued standing over me. "You have been with neither man nor woman since I died. Don't you think three years is long enough?"

"Are you suggesting I summon Shadowmere back and ride until I find some willing young thing to make me forget about you?" I asked crawling backwards away from the looming ghost. "Kind of hard considering it's likely you would be there giving commentary the whole time."

"Is that what is stopping you?" Cicero asked as he advanced with me. "Don't want me watching?"

"No," I admitted. I hadn't found anyone else because there never could be anyone else. No one ever had or could compare to Cicero. He had been my other half for however brief a time and I didn't want to settle for "almost good enough" ever again.

"You're really quite stupid, you know," Cicero said. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around me pinning me down.

"What?" I asked struggling against his cold embrace.

"Mother sent me back to serve you as I did in life and not once have you thought to request the service you seemed to enjoy most," Cicero explained. One hand released my side to grab my jaw so I was looking him in the eye. A finger trailed down my jaw to my chin and back.

"You're insane," I stuttered. My heart was beating too fast. He couldn't be implying what I thought he was. I managed to pull my hands up so they were against his chest. I didn't feel velvet crinkle under my hands as I had done hundreds of times, but just solid ethereal force.

"Not this time," Cicero murmured as he leaned forward to kiss me.

His lips met mine and forced them open so his tongue could invade my mouth. I tasted nothing and like his chest it was just ethereal given form, no texture either. I looked to his face and saw that Cicero's eyes were closed.

I pushed away and slapped my guardian. "What did you do that for?" he yelled.

"I don't know who you are, but you are not Cicero!" I screamed. For the first time in years, the force of my voice made the world around me shake. Trees rattled causing birds to take flight from their nighttime roost. "My Cicero wore velvet, tasted of sweetrolls, and always, always, ALWAYS kissed me with his eyes open. And he was most certainly not blue!"

We glared silently at each other for what felt like an eternity as the nighttime sounds slowly came back. I was shaking violently and tears streamed down my face that I couldn't stop no matter how much I tried. I felt ashamed at the trail of snot on my face, but had nothing to wipe it off without unless I was willing to use my sleeve. At least I was able to hold back the sobs that cramped my chest by focusing on breathing one step at a time.

"I must return to the Void," Cicero said formally as he stood. He gave an ironic mock bow. "I hope you don't mind." Before I could reply, he was gone.

* * *

**Fredas 26 Sun's Height 230 6:00 PM**

"Listener, welcome home," Siltal said when she saw me stomp into Sanctuary. Her expression was doubtful, but she hopefully asked, "How was your trip?"

"Horrible," I growled. I walked right past her and into the passage that led into the catacombs where the Night Mother's crypt was. Only the Dawnstar Speaker and I knew where Mother's body was carefully hidden away from the world.

"I hope he's there with you right now!" I yelled at the sarcophagus. "I hope Cicero is there complaining about how unreasonable I am being so you can tell him to never, ever do anything like that again!" I continued along that line of ranting for a few minutes and when I finished I was out of breath and shaking.

I wondered if the Night Mother would respond to my threats and screams, but she remained silent. Not once had she ever intervened between her fighting children; why should I expect different now when her "gift" to me had come so close to forcing himself on me? I supposed I should be grateful she didn't turn her wrath on me for speaking so disrespectfully to her.

My anger vented, I turned to leave, but stopped at the alcove closest to the coffin. Here was where we had interred Cicero's body, his last request to be near the Night Mother in death as he had in life. Siltal had carefully preserved the body and enchanted it so if anything ever threatened his Matron, Cicero's remains would rise to protect her. I ran my hand over his fine red and silver hair to his faded motley. I thought about kissing his forehead before I left, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had seen Cicero do the same to the Night Mother as his ending ceremony of oiling her and it never bothered me. It just wasn't something I could do too.

* * *

**Fredas 26 Sun's Height 230 10:00 PM**

"Why am I not surprised to find you in here?" Cicero asked. He was standing with the wardrobe doors open and staring at me. His blue essence filled the wardrobe I had crawled into to sulk and think. "I never understood your fascination with this little hobby."

"Oh, you know me," I said vaguely. My eyes felt puffy and hurt from the invasion of light. I looked at his Keeper robes. "I see you changed your outfit."

"I did," he said ignoring the jab. "Come out, I wish to speak with you without dresses hanging in my eyes."

"I'd rather stay," I said curling up tighter in the corner.

"I insist," Cicero said grabbing my wrist and pulling me out. He spun me around so I was in his arms and he started a slow waltz. I was so surprised that we were dancing I followed his lead instead of resisting. The silk skirt of my nightgown flared out as we whirled to silent music. "I never really know how to start a conversation with you, you know. Sometimes you're completely open-minded and will listen to anything I have to say and other times you just shut down and start yelling. It's quite vexing."

I opened my mouth to retort, but Cicero placed a finger over my mouth. "Let me finish." He spun me in a circle before continuing, "The simple fact is I love you. It's one of the topics that always made you unreasonable and I did try my best to limit saying it, but it was true then and it's true now. I love you."

I could feel my body flushing as Cicero talked. I still had not said the Binding Words normal people say despite my vow to do so once Cicero had returned as a ghost. How could I when he was so different now? I envied the ease he was able to say it.

"I want you to realize the extent of my feelings because I went directly to the Dread Father and asked him a boon. I told him and Mother of your discontent and that I was unable to fulfill my duties. In order to do so, I said I would need a body.

"Do you know what the Dread Lord did?" Cicero said. He held me in front of him and looked me in the eye. His eyes were haunted if such a thing could be said about a ghost. "He laughed. Sithis, Dread Lord of the Void, first before the Aedra and Daedra, laughed at me. I didn't think it was even possible.

"Mother took pity as I stood there shaking and wondering if I would be unmade for my impertinence. She said she would grant my request, but there would be conditions. First, I could only maintain the form for no more than five hours at a time and for every minute I spent that way I would have to return to the Void for twice that amount.

"The second condition was," Cicero paused, "more difficult. I would have to merge with the jester. He had been my constant companion in life and would be so again if I was to be given a body." He sat me on the edge of the bed. Ghostly blue eyes were pained as he said, "I agreed."

Cicero's clothing changed from his Keeper's robes to the jester's motley. The spectral blue was slowly replaced with red and black. I could feel it change under my hands to the familiar velvet. Flesh became healthy pink and hot to the touch. Hair darkened to fiery red. Finally, the eyes were once against amber laughing and teasing.

"Ooh, Listener, did you miss Cicero?" the jester teased. I could see both of them there, the assassin and the clown, in those intense, expressive eyes. I nodded wordlessly causing him to laugh. Thin lips pressed against mine, eager and hungry. Pink tongue; wet, warm and rough, fought against mine for dominance. Golden eyes sparkling as he watched my reaction.

I moaned softly and could not stop from closing my eyes as I leaned into the kiss. When we broke apart, I was slightly breathless. I licked my lips enjoying how wet they felt.

"Oh, for Mara's sake," Cicero said exasperated, "all that hassle Diana gave Cicero for kissing with his eyes closed and she does the same thing." It was the first time he had ever sworn by anyone other than Sithis or the Night Mother and it made me laugh.

_I am sorry_ is what I meant to say, but instead the words, "I love you," flew out of my lips. I gasped in surprise and wanted to take them back, but they were already gone and in Cicero's ear.

Cicero's eyes widened in shock before he grinned foolishly. "Is that all loyal Cicero had to do for Hecate to admit how she feels? Die, come back, and beg a body from the most feared of deities? Pfft, if Cicero had known then he would have done so years ago!"

"I love you!" I said laughing as I grabbed Cicero's face and planted kisses all over. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" It was like a dam breaking and letting loose the flood. No sense holding back now or ever again.

At some point Cicero's motley had become untied and my hands were running down his chest marveling at the feel of his body hair. When I touched his pants line, my hand jerked away as if on fire. "Oh, don't stop, please don't stop. Cicero didn't come this far to play cards with Hecate."

For a moment, my hand hovered hesitating, but Cicero grabbed it and plunged it under the cloth. I groaned at the touch of hair and hot flesh as I grasped him. Cicero cried against the hollow of my neck as I stroked him. The bodice of my gown was undone and gloved hands flew over my breasts messaging them. Cicero stopped to pull one glove off with his teeth before returning his attention to touching me. I loved the different feel of skin and velvet on my flesh.

"We always seem to end up here," I managed to say as Cicero pushed me so I was on my back on my large bed. His kisses trailed down my chest until he was licking and kissing my nipple with enthusiasm. "Me in my nightgown with you on top of me half naked. You're not going to run away this time, are you?"

"Never again," he promised around a mouthful of breast. His ungloved hand stole under my skirt and hiked it up so he could run his hand over my thigh. Deft fingers pushed aside the thin cloth of my smallclothes to touch underneath. I cried out in pleasure as he slid in and out touching me with years of experience. "We'll be together forever."

"Not until one of us dies horribly in service to the Night Mother?" I teased. My hands were firmly wrapped around strands of red hair. Cicero's mouth traveled further south on my stomach with one hand impatiently pulling cloth out of the way.

"Been there, done that," Cicero scoffed. He nuzzled the area between my legs before grabbing the cloth with his teeth and tearing it away. "Highly overrated." Then he dipped his head back down so his tongue could flit over my clit as he stroked me.

My breathing was ragged as I chanted, "I love you" over and over in time to my hips thrusting up to meet Cicero's tongue as he lashed it against me. I was quickly spiraling towards orgasm for it had been a long time for any type of pleasure for me. I had been as celibate as the Greybeard monks and had not even touched myself in three years.

When I came, I Shouted so hard I think I blacked out for a second. The force of my scream made even heavy furniture fall over. I could hear footsteps and a knock on the door with the muffled voice of Siltal asking, "Listener, is everything okay?"

"Y-yes," I managed to call back. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'm busy. I'll talk to you later."

"Very good, ma'am." Her tone was hesitant, but Siltal respected my request and left. I had never been more relieved to hear footsteps fading away.

Cicero had taken advantage of the distraction to shuck the rest of his clothes. He pulled off his jester's cap and playfully placed it on my head. "I always loved when you wore your motley," he said affectionately. "We were officially two of a kind and Cicero felt complete." He kissed me and I could taste my sex on his lips.

"Hecate loves Cicero," I pouted playfully mimicking his speech. I threw my arms around him and drew my jester close so we were a tangle of limbs. "Hecate wants Cicero. Hecate needs Cicero."

"And have him, you shall," my Fool of Hearts promised. One hand slid under my hip and pushed me upward to provide easier access. The tip of his erection brushed against me, teasing as it rubbed my sensitive area, before plunging fully.

My hands clenched from pain on Cicero's back leaving red marks. It was too much too quickly after too long. I was still tight. I bit down on the Keeper's shoulder as he moved against me, my hips bucking with his. It hurt, but it felt good. I mewled and groaned through clenched teeth as I bit across Cicero's skin. I whispered, "I love you" over and over in his ear as I nibbled on the lobe.

Tension was building again; the heat between my legs was almost unbearable. A thrust of the hip, a touch of a hand on my breast, mouth on neck licking and nipping was overwhelming me. I could feel Cicero getting close as he thickened in me and with one final thrust we came together. This time when I screamed, Cicero placed one hand over my mouth to muffle it.

"Don't want to worry Siltal," he joked, "or she may bash the door down to save you."

"I'm surprised that you were able to finish," I panted. I vaguely gestured at him. "I wasn't sure how fully functional this body was."

"Oh, I'm full of surprises," Cicero preened.

"Is that what you're calling it nowadays?" I asked arching an eyebrow. We both laughed as he took back his cap from me.

I fell back against my pillow; eyes heavy from exhaustion. I couldn't remember the last time I had slept well and sex always left me blissfully drained. I grabbed Cicero's hand so our fingers were entwined. I didn't want to sleep now that I had my Fool back.

"Sleep," Cicero said. "Cicero will return to the Void to serve his penance and will be here when Hecate awakens."

I wanted to say "I love you" one last time before my Keeper left, but I couldn't coherently form the words. My eyes fluttered shut and I mumbled something incoherent as Cicero fluttered a butterfly kiss on my lips before placing a firmer kiss on my forehead. He stepped back and bowed before returning to his spectral form. A wave of his hand and Cicero was gone to the Void.

I snuggled deeper into my pillows and furs smiling. I wasn't worried. He would be back tomorrow and I would tell him then. Tomorrow. There was always tomorrow. We had all the time in the world.

* * *

**A/N: Well, Hecate finally said it. I really liked this chapter despite sometimes getting stuck when writing romance between those two. Oddly enough, this chapter affected me much more than Cidhna Mine. Maybe because I had always known that Cicero was going to die some day, but Hecate finally saying the Binding Words took even me by surprise.**


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